


Back From the Future: Episode V Vader Strikes Back

by Ariel_Sojourner



Series: In Which Series [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Darth Vader, Can I torture characters I love more than before?, Changing Tenses, Crack Treated Seriously, Father-Son Relationship, Force Sensitive Clones, Gratuitous use of parentheses, Grief/Mourning, I blatantly steal what I want from the EU, Luke and Vader Save the Galaxy, Noghri, Slavery, Snippets, Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), Temporal Physics Are Ignored, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, yes i can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariel_Sojourner/pseuds/Ariel_Sojourner
Summary: In which Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader travel back in time together to the Clone Wars Era but the fight to take down Palpatine ends very differently.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: In Which Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/719523
Comments: 444
Kudos: 1089





	1. In Which the Sith Master is Killed at a Terrible Cost

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT your traditional sequel. No surprise there. The original story was not your traditional time travel fix-it story either. This fic will make no sense without reading the first part of the "In Which" series. I mean it. I am dropping you right in the middle of it. Literally. Don't blame me if you are lost. The Force doesn't give a damn about temporal mechanics and neither does this series. Seriously. Read the other one first. Laugh. Cry. Wail. Then come read this.
> 
> Also this story does NOT continuing the Omake from the prior story. I've gone off in a totally different direction for the sole purpose of torturing characters I love. I would ask for your forgiveness but I'm not sorry for what I'm about to post. 
> 
> Not sorry at all.

(CHAPTER 11)

CX.

Luke and his father have never practiced fighting together, but just like when they faced Dooku it doesn’t seem to matter, they move in tandem. They fight together like they were born to do so.

Luke goes low and manages a hit to Palpatine’s leg and Vader moves in only for Force lighting to arc through him at close range. Vader drops his saber, his prosthetics shorting and sparking and Palpatine slashes out. Vader roars in pain and Luke uses the Force to desperately shove his father clear so the blow wounds, fracturing his mask, but it does not kill.

Luke lets the Force take over his every movement, blocks and parries faster than he ever thought possible, and then, _then_ finds his opening, slicing off Sidious’ hand. Maddened by pain, the Sith throws out great arcs of lightning, striking furiously and indiscriminately around the Plaza. Luke tries to block the lightning the way he saw his father do, but the barrage is too intense. He cannot protect both himself and his father and chooses to deflect the danger away from Vader's fallen form.

Luke goes down with a cry as Sidious' lightning attack connects and he loses his saber. Luke's flesh begins to cook from the inside out. In the distance over his own cries and screams of agony he can hear Sidious gleefully cackling about power. He cannot see his father. In the darkness he can only see Palpatine's horrible sneering look of triumph. The Light seems so far away and Luke can feel himself slipping.

Palpatine’s sadistic joy seems to fill the air as much as the scent of ozone and burning. He has won! Just as he had foreseen, Darkness stands victorious over everything.

He is so engrossed in murdering the Jedi that he misses Vader looming out of the dark behind him. Vader does not hesitate or warn; he draws on the last of his strength and impales Sidious with one vicious stroke and then both he and the would-be-Emperor fall.

Luke struggles to look up only to be blinded by the explosion of Dark pouring out of the Sith’s body as he dies.

* * *

CXI.

Once there was a boy conceived with all the promise of the galaxy. In a perfect universe he would be born to the most powerful Jedi Knight who ever lived, a Hero, they said, with no fear. He would be born to the most influential voice and champion for the people and freedom the Galactic Republic had ever seen, a politician of integrity and passion. He would be born with a twin sister, fierce and lovely, a perfect counterpoint to himself. He would be born into a family that loved him, that wanted him, and that would have cared for him his entire life. 

It was not to be.

Once there was a boy born on an asteroid while the galaxy burned around him. He was born without a father. He was born to a mother that barely lived long enough to name him before breathing her last. He was born with a sister who was torn from him before he was a day old. He was born an orphan, bereft of the promise of family. And so the boy was taken by a man who could have been his family and left with kin by sale and by marriage on a desolate planet far from the bright center of the universe to live as the freeborn son of a freed man, a moisture farmer.

It was not to be.

Once there was a boy who lost his home, his aunt, his uncle, his mentor, and his childhood friend in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Three years later, he lost his hand, his innocence, his dreams, and his trust on a metal gangway hanging over the edge of an abyss. Six months after that, he redeemed himself by saving his friend and was ready to take the final step towards his destiny.

It was not to be.

Once there was a boy lost in time with the father he thought was dead. He spent two years ending a war in a desperate attempt to save the galaxy and his family. He spent two year liberating slaves and fighting corruption leading by example. He spent two years discovering what it meant to be a Jedi and to be a son. The knowledge and experiences he gained would be vital to ushering in a new era for Force users and sentients everywhere.

It was not to be.

* * *

CXII.  
  
Vader forced himself to rise. Through the ruins of his faceplate he looked around for his son. Staggering, at times nearly crawling, Vader made his way towards the fallen figure beyond the slain would-be Emperor.   
  
“Luke, can you hear me?” he asked, collapsing by his son’s side, fumbling with his hands, trying to get his damaged prosthetics to work. 

There was no response. 

He reached though the Force, past the stabbing pain in his head to find Luke’s Force presence, that cool spring of water that never seemed to run dry. 

He found nothing. Like a well gone dry, a sea consumed by sands, Luke wasn’t there.

“No, _no_.” He tried to pull Luke into his arms. “Son, _wake up_. Answer me!”

He cast about wildly through the Force. He must be more injured than he thought. His suit was compromised. He was probably hallucinating. Luke had to be alive. He couldn’t be gone. 

“Luke?”

Pushing past the pain in his lungs and his head, the sparking of his cybernetics he searched and searched–

–And he _found_ it!

He found the familiar flickering light that was his son. Vader grabbed onto that light and surrounded it with care. Gasping in relief, he opened his eyes–

But Luke was still and silent, burned and broken in his arms.

“Luke?”

How could this be? This made _no sense_. He must be going mad. He reached out again. 

The presence he felt was barely formed, a mere firefly of light compared to the usual dazzling presence of his grown son. It was small and young, nothing more than the simplest of feelings.

_–cold, other-self, hungry, loud–_

“Sir, he’s gone. He’s dead. Please, we need to get you to medical.”

Someone was pulling at Luke. Someone was trying to take his son away from him. 

Without thought he reached out to fight back, to defend. The storm of Darkness within him ever ready to rise and destroy his enemies struck out.

“ _Gakk_! Si-iir!”

“Sir, stop! You’re choking him!”

“Sir, _please_! It’s us! We’re not the enemy! It’s Captain Rex! _You’re killing Captain Rex_!”

_-fear, loud, pain, painpainpain–_

Vader knew those voices. Those were the voices of his men, the 501st. 

(Vader also knew the little voice inside him that spoke not in words but in feelings. That was the voice of _Anakin’s son_ , only a few hours old if that. It was not the voice of his son. He didn’t hear his son’s voice.) 

He wouldn’t hear Luke’s voice ever again. 

The Darkness receded.

His grip released.

Captain Rex breathed again.

The little voice whimpered and calmed.

Through the cracks in his mask, Vader stared at the troopers around him, the corpse of Palpatine, at the ruins of the Senate Plaza, and then down at the body of his son. 

Luke was dead.


	2. In Which Vader Adds To His Already Long List of Criminal Offenses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think you know where this is going. Well, I hope to surprise you. Buckle up, you are in for a bumpy ride.

(CHAPTER 12)

CXIII.

Master Windu looked down at the body. It was the tenth body he'd seen in the past ten-day. One a day, regular as a chrono.

This time, cause of death was not asphyxiation but very obviously death by lightsaber. The hacking and slashing pattern was too distinctive to be anything else, especially given the cauterization and minimal blood. This judicial officer had died violently and in pain.

Ignoring the prattling of the Coruscant police officers and droids around him, Mace walked around the office. It was clear the dead man had put up a fight but it had done him no good. In this wake of Palpatine's death, a dead Republic High Judge bearing obvious lightsaber wounds meant one thing only.

Vader was "cleaning house" with extreme prejudice.

And what made matters worse, the public _supported_ it.  
  
Oh, the police investigated each death. Senators and other officials protested (though many who did had damning ties to Palpatine and weren’t taken very seriously. They were also frequently subject to immediate arrest by the Coruscant Guard). There was, of course, _no proof_ that it was Vader behind the bodies. (There was no definitive proof that Vader and Luke had even survived killing Palpatine. There were plenty of rumors he and the rogue Jedi had died, but Mace held no stock in rumors.) But by and large the people _welcomed_ the reports of another body dropping. The Galactic Holonet reported the death toll with ghoulish pleasure. The public and the media seemed to applaud the vigilante justice being metted out as more than fitting.

Mace disagreed.

Sith apprentices killed Sith Masters to take power. Vader’s “son” had been nothing more than his future apprentice. The plan to “stop the war” was just a Sith power play to infiltrate the military and take control of the Republic and the Separatists from Palpatine. The Sith Apprentice, Asajj Ventress’ "call for peace" on the part of the Separatists was probably part of the elaborate plot. The "disappearance" of Count Dooku from the battlefield was _too_ convenient. The League of Neutral Systems was only fanning the flames with their pacifist desires to "compromise."

It was a ruse, Mace was sure of it. There would be no peace, not while Sith lived. 

The Order had trusted Palpatine’s kind words. The Order had trusted the loyalty of the clone troops. The Order had trusted the Senate to uphold the principals of democracy and peace. The Order had even once trusted Dooku to be a political idealist, the Separatists only interested in reform.

And look at what that trust had led to.

 _Never again_ , he swore to himself as he turned and left the latest crime scene.

Something had to be done _now_ to prevent Vader from stepping into the power vacuum left by Palpatine’s death. He would convince the others on the Council that they had to act or face the Fall of the Republic. Action would be authorized and the Order would go after Vader, Luke, and Ventress and end the threat of the Sith once and for all. 

Mace would make sure of it even if he had to hunt down every last Sith himself.

* * *

CXIV.

After the tenth body dropped, certain people started leaving Coruscant. Oh, they all had excuses for leaving but nothing could disguise or hide the fear in their eyes.

They feared they would be the next to die.

Bail Organa was doing all he could to calm the public and hold the Republic together, but it didn’t help that one of the key members of the Loyalist Committee, Senator Taa, had fled Coruscant. That left Bail with fewer allies by the minute. 

Moreover, he wasn’t even sure he could trust the Delegation of 2,000 with Senator Concorkill and Representative Nee Alavar also making their “excuses” to leave the system. 

If only Senator Amidala had not mysteriously left! They had been mere hours away from the vote to cease hostilities with the Separatists and start the peace process when everything had gone straight to hell. Bail seemed to be the only one left to pick up the pieces (somewhat literally given the state of the Jedi Temple and the crashed cruiser still smoking nearby!) and worst of all, it meant he was the one that the Jedi Order was calling upon now and he really didn’t have the time.

“Master Yoda, Master Windu,” he greeted them perfunctorily as they stepped into his offices. He continued sorting through the pile of work on his desk. “Please forgive me, but I am due in the Senate in less than an hour.” 

“Keep you long, we will not,” Master Yoda said walking slowly into Bail’s office. “Update, we are here to provide. Help we are offering. For these reasons, we have come.”

The Senator paused, feeling cautiously hopeful. “Help? What kind of help?” 

“We believe we know who is behind the string of assassinations on Coruscant,” Master Windu explained.

Bail put down his datapad with a sigh. “Master Jedi, I think every sentient in the galaxy knows who is behind the assassinations.”

“Vader,” Yoda intoned with a shake of his head.

“Vader,” Bail agreed. “But what sort of help is the Order offering? Do you know who is on his list of targets? I admit that given the state of the Judiciary right now and how many people the Coruscant Guard have arrested, I am not sure the Senate is in any position to step in to deal with the situation. However, if you’ve come to share information that will be a tremendous help. We could at least start coordinating arrests instead of hearing the news of summary executions on the Galactic Holonet.”

The Jedi didn’t respond. Instead they shared a silent look. “Why would you think that the _Order_ would have such information?” Mace finally asked.  
  
“Why _wouldn’t_ you have knowledge of who he intends to kill next?” Bail wondered, growing more confused as the conversation progressed.

Yoda’s ears rose incredulously. “In support of his action, you believe the Order is? That his conduct, we sanction?” 

“Vader defeated Palpatine. He was working with a Jedi Knight when he confronted the Sith Master, leading GAR troops. The holonet infodump of Palpatine’s files has kicked over a gundark’s nest galaxy wide. While I find Vader’s methods to be extreme and distasteful, I _have_ been privy to enough Senate Arms Committee briefings to know that harsher methods are sometimes necessary to deal with immediate threats to the Republic. Given some of the legislation that was shoved through the Senate over the past year, his recent acts may even be deemed _legal_ in the interest of galactic security,” he added with a disdainful snort. “Now that the war is over we’re hoping to undo those laws of course, but with Luke and Vader working under the auspices of the Order and with military authority when they uncovered who Palpatine truly . . . was . . .”

He trailed off. Neither of the Masters before him had the faintest idea what he was talking about. Bail inhaled sharply in shock.

Sweet gods, the situation was worse than he’d ever imagined!

“You didn’t know? The Order _didn’t know_?” he demanded, bewildered and aghast. “About Vader’s plans? You _didn’t know_ about _Palpatine_? Then–then _how_ –?” 

“Senator Organa, Vader is a Sith Lord. He didn’t save the Republic. He isn’t some sort of hero. He killed Chancellor Palpatine because that is how Sith take power. The student kills the master. He just happened to do it very publicly for reasons we cannot explain as of yet. All we do know is that it was part of a calculated move to destroy the Republic and we must be more vigilant than ever if we have any hope of bringing this war to a close.”

Bail looked from one Jedi to another, still in shock. “You’re joking,” he said flatly.

Yoda slammed his cane tip into the floor. “Joking we are not, Sith _he is_.”

“No, _he’s not_. He can’t be,” Bail argued. He stood and went to the holoscreen which showed multiple news feeds on mute, many of which were replaying Palpatine’s unmasking and subsequent death. “Have you _watch_ the holovid of the fight? What they said to each other? He fought _side by side_ with a Jedi Knight. Just because he uses a life support system or-or his lightsaber is _red_ –”

“ _That boy_ . . . was no Jedi,” Yoda interrupted firmly with a shake of his head. 

Bail was taken aback and not just by Yoda's syntax. This was _insane_. This whole situation was insane. If the Order didn’t know what was going on then _who the hell_ had he, Satine, and Padme been dealing with for months on end? _Sith Lords_ bent on conquest? Were they _kidding_? He couldn’t believe it! 

He looked again at the holoimages of Vader and Luke confronting a cowering Palpatine. He shook his head in disbelief. He could see now that Palpatine was false. The clues were always there and once the mask of the kindly politician was ripped off, the vile toxic mess beneath permeated everything. 

But Vader? _Luke_? Sith Lords in the making?

No. It was absurd. The Jedi Masters had to be wrong.

“Luke has been instrumental in the peace process, in establishing clone rights, in laying the groundwork for the Accords with Duchess Satine and even with Representative Ventress. Vader’s been helping with various sentient crises from here to the Rim for over a year! They freed tens of thousands of Republic citizens from Zygerrian slavery just a few months ago!”   
  
“Senator, we do not need you to lecture us on who is or is not a Sith, on who is or is not a member of our Order. Vader _is_ a Sith Lord and he is planning to take over the Republic in a critical moment of weakness. You don't realize it, but the deaths are part of a larger plan to escalate the war–"

Bail stopped him with a raised hand. He had heard enough. “Let us be clear on one thing, Master Windu. This war is over.”

“The war will never be over until the Sith are destroyed!”

“With all due respect, I must admit to being skeptical of the Order’s knowledge of who is or is not a Sith or even a Jedi at this point! You have just admitted to me that you didn’t even know that the Chancellor was the mastermind behind the war until after Vader and Luke confronted him on live Galactic Holonet! If Vader and Luke are not part of the Jedi Order, that means your Order had _nothing_ to do with saving us from a-a tyrant! Your Order knew _nothing_ and did _nothing_ to stop the war, to bring forward the vote, to save the Republic or-or even _fight for clone rights_! It was all them! _They_ have ended this war and it is over Master Jedi, make no mistake about that! _The war is over_!”

“You were in communication with Luke and Vader before Palpatine’s death,” Mace announced darkly. “You’ve been taken in by their false promises. Just like Palpatine, they are not who or what they seem. You don’t know the power--”

“ _I_ don’t know? I _do_ know. They’re the ones that helped make peace possible. In case you’ve forgotten, they just _saved your Order from extinction_!”   
  
Yoda sighed and shook his head in disapproval. He began heading for the door. “Apprised of this situation, you seem to be. Our duty, done it is. Make you see the truth, we cannot. Continue to protect the Republic, we will. Your busy schedule, we leave you to.”

“Stop! Wait! I have questions. What are you planning to do? Damn it, we’re trying to broker a permanent peace here. We can’t have the Order acting against that and breaking the cease fire. You can’t just accuse people of being a Sith and just leave! The Senate needs to know–”

“The Order will take care of Vader, that is all you need to know,” Master Windu said with a shallow dismissive bow. “This is Jedi business. The Senate need not involve itself. We will leave you to your work.”

Bail watched them both leave, stunned. “What just happened here?” he asked the empty office aloud.

He took a quick glance at his chrono. There was just enough time for a quick holocall. Duchess Satine needed to know this intelligence right away. Perhaps she’d had better luck getting in touch with Padme than he or Breha had. 99 was still on Mandalore, his sage advice would also be invaluable. The GAR were a part of this, had worked closely with both the Order and with Luke and Vader for years. He needed to regroup with those he could trust so they could hold the Republic– the galaxy together.

For the first time ever the list of those he could trust did not necessarily include the Jedi Order.

* * *

CXV.

Obi-Wan knows there is something that Anakin isn’t telling him and it isn’t just because Anakin still hasn’t said a word since Palpatine’s death. He _isn’t_ blind. He’d raised the boy for over a decade and now …  
  
(Well, all right. Perhaps he had been _a little_ short sighted when it came to Anakin. He hadn’t known until very recently that his Padawan was actually legally married with a pregnant wife. He hadn’t known that Anakin’s relationship with Chancellor Palpatine was a toxic mess of dark influences that caused untold damage or that Anakin’s indomitable spirit on the battlefield covered up deep trauma. Perhaps he was very much in the dark when he thought about it.)

But be that as it may, his eyes are open now and he is paying attention! He isn’t just trying to ignore things going wrong with Anakin any longer, and clearly there is _something_ else troubling him.

And worse still, Padme obviously knows what it is and she. Isn’t. Saying.

After several days of following them around the Lake House, waiting for one or both of them to confide in him, Obi-Wan has had enough. He finally confronts Padme. 

He has to give it to her, for all of his Jedi impassiveness, even he has never mastered her level of facial control. But this is about Anakin and Obi-Wan isn’t going to give up so easily.   
  
“Anakin is deeply troubled. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he is in … _pain_ , grieving, actually grieving,” Obi-Wan says. “ _Both_ of you are. You’re grieving. For whom? Not _Palpatine_?” he asks, aghast.

Padme openly scoffs, eyes flashing with fury. “Don’t be obscene! As if we would mourn _him_.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. You’re right,” he apologizes hurriedly. “But _please_ , there is something going on. I can sense it. Neither of you are sleeping. He won’t let the twins out of his sight. He’s barely eating. Just tell me. I can help. I want to help.”

The Senator looked away. “Have you been watching the holo news lately?” she finally asks.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. No, he hasn’t. It has been showing nothing but the death of Palpatine on repeat. He has no desire to see the vid and be reminded of literally trying to hold onto Anakin to keep him from Falling.

He has enough trouble sleeping in the quiet of the countryside without the sound of his men and the pounding of turbolasers or the hum of hyperspace as it is. No need to add to his difficulties.

She purses her lips together and is silent for a long movement. “You should watch it.”

* * *

CXVI.  
  
Vader’s quarry had gone to ground. He’d left Courscant, fleeing in fear at the mere thought that he may be next on Vader’s list and he was right. Lieutenant Commander Krennic could not be allowed to live. While Vader and Luke had pro-actively dealt with the Death Star plans and prototypes months ago with the help of Hack Squad and Ventress, Krennic himself needed to go before he developed any more abominations that he called peace keeping weapons.

Vader needed a ship and a way to get off world quickly or he would lose the trail. Fortunately he remembered where Skywalker would have docked the _Twilight_ if he was trying to avoid notice when arriving on Coruscant. With a simple application of the Force, the door to the docking bay slid open and there was the old smugglers’ ship in all its disreputable glory.

“You know, taking this ship is going to cause Ahsoka some trouble. She’s planning to use it to join her Master on Naboo.”

Vader did not turn towards the voice.

Vader knew if he stopped and looked there would be nothing there.

He punched in the key code and strode onto the ship and up to the cockpit. He needed to focus. He needed to find Krennic and deal with him once and for all, and what a pleasure that was going to be.

“This reminds me of the _Falcon_. You’ve made a lot of special modifications to this ship, haven’t you?”

Vader started prepping for take off, refusing to turn in his seat.

The voice _wasn’t real_. It was just his guilt tormenting him with dreams of things he could not have. It was nothing more than oxygen deprivation. The repairs to his suit and mask that he’d rigged together were haphazard at best. He knew the torment of such visions well.

(For years it had been _Padme’s_ voice he heard, _Padme’s_ face he’d seen, only for her to be snatched away in smoke and fire.)

He could not let himself be distracted. He had to focus his rage on appropriate targets and finish what he and his son had started: saving the Force forsaken galaxy from its own idiocy.

Vader sent a coded message on to the 501st. The _Pioneer_ and the _Dauntless_ were still in orbit and would ensure that he could leave the planet without any fuss. He started the engines and the ship began to rise.

“Well, I hope Ahsoka isn’t too mad when she realizes you _borrowed_ the ship.”

Vader did not respond. The comm beeped.

“Sir, we have your flight path out of the system taken care of,” Captain Rex said over the commlink. “We’ll follow behind you in half a standard rotation.”

“Good work, Captain,” Vader said, adjusting his speed and vector.

“Was … there anything else, sir?” Rex asked after a moment of silence when Vader did not cut the channel.

“Commander Tano will need alternative transportation off the planet.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll arrange a shuttle to be at her disposal before we leave the system. _Dauntless_ , out.”

Vader spared a glance over to the co pilot’s chair beside him as if to say _There, see? Ahsoka will be fine_.

But the chair was empty. 

The chair had always been empty.

Vader was alone.

* * *

CXVII.

“I’ll see about a shuttle for the Commander myself,” Jesse said with a nod after Rex had cut the connection. “Something not too noticeable and leave it in the hanger.”

“What about resupply?” Captain Rex asked.

“We’re on schedule, sir, and Commander Appo is ready to start recalling our men from the planet in under three hours.”

“Make sure the men know that the recall is optional. If they want to stay and help our brothers on the planet they are free to do so,” Rex reminded him as he headed towards the office. Luke would have insisted on that, he thought to himself. “The same is true for everyone aboard ship, even the wounded. The war is over.”

“The war is over,” he repeated solemnly, a mantra of remembrance where before it had been something of a joke, said in sarcasm and jest. Jesse then paused. “Uh, Captain,” he began.

“ _Yes_?” Rex replied curtly. 

Jesse hesitated and then shook his head. “Nothing, sir. Sorry, I’ll go take care of the Commander’s shuttle.”

Rex did not respond. He went inside the office and sat down. The comm was beeping again with messages from all over the galaxy, from troopers, from Jedi, and from contacts Luke had made in dozens of systems over the years. Vader wasn’t answering them. Vader had refused to set foot in any of the offices he and his son used to use since Palpatine’s death. Hells, the man had barely stayed aboard long enough for Quick to get in even the most perfunctory physical scan and treatment before he’d returned to Coruscant and started … _hunting_.

The Clone Marshals had been talking and Rex knew it was the right decision for the majority of the 501st to stay with Vader, to take out the most severe of threats to the peace and promise of freedom that had been bought with so many lives. But that didn’t mean he was enjoying the mission. A black pall had fallen over the 501st. They had suffered high casualties defending the Jedi Temple and defeating Palpatine had cost them Luke. Even though he was just one man, it somehow seemed like too high a price.

People died every day, Rex reminded himself. Troopers and Jedi died _every day_ , but still . . . Luke’s death seemed to have left a gaping hole in the universe and no one was prepared to deal with it, least of all Vader.

Rex sighed as he eyed the pile of datapads and waiting messages that Luke would never answer, would never finish. He shoved them aside, turning off the beeping notifications.

Who was he kidding? He wasn’t prepared to deal with it either.

* * *

CXVI.

Obi-Wan takes Padme’s advice and watches Palpatine’s death from start to finish. 

He regrets it immediately.

He wishes he hadn’t seen it. He wishes he could wipe the images from the inside of his brain, because _somehow_ , in some _unfathomable way_ that makes _no sense_ , all he sees on the holoscreen is **_Anakin_**.

 _Anakin_ is fighting a Sith Master. 

_Anakin_ is throwing himself out of a window to protect _Luke_.

(His son. _His son_!)

 _Anakin_ is suffering under an attack of Sith lightning. 

_Anakin’s_ prosthetic is shorting out.

 _Anakin_ is wielding a red lightsaber using Djem So forms that _Anakin_ had modified from Form V. 

Obi-Wan buries his head in his hands, wishing he could somehow forget what he now knows. 

(“Sidious cares for nothing but himself and the Rule of Two. To finally accomplish his goals he has only ever really lacked one thing, a _true_ apprentice,” Dooku had said.)

Not Anakin, oh Force _please_ , not Anakin. It can’t be. 

Obi-Wan is just tired. He’s seeing things that are not there. The stress of the past three years is obviously affecting him. His mind is playing tricks. There is no way, just _no way_ that this can be real.

(“We’ve seen your future. We don’t want it,” Luke says fiercely to Palpatine as the vid repeats. “You have _nothing_ we want.”

“Don’t I?” the Chancellor says with a vicious smile. “You hate me, you both do. The hate is welling in you now. Why pretend? You think the Order will accept you? You are nothing more than a heretic, a poorly trained tainted novice who they will shun at best, hunt down at worst. And _you_ , a Sith Lord– there is no future for you without me. Join me and together we will rule the galaxy as it was meant to be ruled!”)

 _Anakin_ is a Sith Lord. Even entombed in a monstrous black shell, masked from the world, even torn out of some other horrible time, Sidious recognizes one of his own.

Obi-Wan recognizes his own.

(On the holoscreen, Vader presses his blade forward and spits back at Palpatine, “I will _never_ join you!”)

He waves his hand and the holoscreen goes dark. He’s offered Padme his help. He’s sworn to Anakin that day at 500 Republica that he would stay with him and make it all right, fix everything. But this is too much; this is too big. He _can’t possibly_ –

(“He is your _brother_!? Your _Chosen One_!? He’s supposed to SAVE you and your wretched Order?! YOU **LOVE** HIM?!” Vader screamed at him.)

He touches his throat gingerly. 

The bruises and physical damage are healed but the Forcestorm of pain and rage and _betrayal_ \--

 _ **Liar**_ , Vader had named him.

( _Later_ , Obi-Wan had promised himself over and over again over the past few years, pushing aside his guilt. _Later, he would have time to really talk and help Anakin through this._ )

No, Obi-Wan decides. He is _no liar_. He will keep his promise and make things right. If Vader could do it, (and how _horrible_ must the future have been for one lost to the Dark to find a way to save the entire galaxy?) then so could he.

He stands and goes to find his Padawan.


	3. In Which The Clones Consider Their Futures and Obi-Wan Gets Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING. References both directly and indirectly to past/offscreen suicide and suicidal thoughts. Take care of yourself when reading this chapter.

(CHAPTER 13)

CXVII.

“Where the _kriffing_ hell is the _Twilight_?” Ahsoka exclaimed entering the hanger, hitching up her backpacks and juggling the potted plant in her arms to grab one of her sabers. The war may be over but that didn’t mean there weren’t threats aplenty planetside.  
  
The unknown shuttle in front of her opened and she saw familiar armor. “Sorry, Commander, it was … requisitioned.”

“Jesse, who took our ship? Anakin hates it when anyone takes the _Twilight_ without permission.”

The clone helped her with the bags and escorted her onto the shuttle. “Er, well …”

“ _Careful_ with those; they have Obi-Wan’s teapot and mug inside,” Ahsoka said as she found a place for the plant. “What’s going on? I thought the men were all on stand down.”

“The _Twilight_ was needed as part of a tracking mission. It’ll be returned later, sir.”

“Tracking missing. Riiight. Look, I’ve had enough of all these secrets and plots. Just spit it out,” she suggested, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Vader needed the ship to hunt down some scientist who was making doomsday devices for Palpatine,” he said in a rush.

“Vader?” She pursed her lips together. “What about … what about Luke? Cody said …”

Jesse shook his head. “He died in the fight,” he confirmed softly. “And since then, Vader’s been kinda …”

“On a murderous rampage?” she filled in snarkily. “Doing what Sith do?”

“Hey!” he protested. “Vader’s taken out some of the scummiest traitors to the Republic, ones that even if we did arrest them would cause serious _kriffing_ problems to the peace process. Don’t forget, he helped free us. He killed Palpatine.”

“Okay, so maybe he is doing some good, but you’re not a Jedi.” She sat in the pilot’s seat with a shudder. “You can’t sense him like I can. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous to _our_ _enemies_ like Krell and Palpatine,” Jesse said loyally. “He’s really just a big softy. And who cares if he’s a bit, er, y’know? Nobody’s perfect.”  
  
Ahsoka gave him a Look and then sighed. She was _not_ going to deal with this now. She was not going to think about Luke’s death and Vader running around without anyone keeping him in check. She was not going to think about the Council ordering her to find her Master and return him to Coruscant for “questioning.” She needed to get to Anakin and make sure he was all right. Being away from him was doing nothing to calm her nerves.

“I’m taking the shuttle. I’ll drop you off on the _Dauntless_. But I’m not going to be the one to tell Anakin that the _Twilight_ is gone. You can comm General Skywalker and explain that a Sith stole his ship for his murder missions. All right?”

Jesse gulped hard and straightens to attention. “Yes, Commander.”

* * *

CXVIII.

Fives wants to move. His back itches. Quick is weaning him off the good drugs but he finds he can’t just sleep the day away. The problem is flat on his back he can’t do anything. He wants to get out of bed and _do_ something.

But right now something is off the table; he's just lucky that his spine is still intact.  
  
He is lucky to be alive.

(A year ago, perhaps two, an injury like this would have meant _decommissioning_. Now resources are used to keep him alive, heal him. He is very lucky. He knows that.)

Others haven’t been so fortunate.

Fives closes his eyes and clenches his fists. The casualties reports of clones fighting clones are sickening; there are Jedi dead in the field at the hands of their own troopers. And to top it all off, his teacher is dead.

Luke is dead.

(The thought fills him with sick dread, like he’s eaten bad rations. If he focuses on it for too long he beings to panic.)

So many dead and he is stuck in medbay for at least another week before he’ll be allowed to start physical therapy. And even when he is back on his feet, who will teach him and his brothers now? Who will lead them? Where do they belong with the war is over? They can't go on alone.  
  
(The annoying heart monitor begins to beep at a more insistent rate.)

If only he could get up and do something productive! If only he could be of some use he’d feel better!

“ _What do you think you’re doing_?!” Quick barked with a volume that only field medics seem to have.

Fives turns his head carefully to see which patient had earned the medic’s ire this time. He needn’t have actually looked. He can guess who it is.

“I’m better. I don’t need to be here!” Hardcase argues even as he hops back over to his cot, thwarted in his most recent escape attempt.

Quick shoves him down and checks the bacta patch over his leg. “You nearly bled to death, you nerf. We’ve had to ration the bacta with all the injuries. It isn’t healed yet. You put pressure on it now, the wound could reopen and _you could die_!”

“Aw, c’mon. It wasn’t as bad as all that,” he protest trying to bat the medic’s hands away.

“This is the third time today. And you didn’t even bother to steal a hoverchair this time! Do I need to strap you down? Because I will!”

“Look, Quick, I’ve got stuff to do I can’t do in here,” Hardcase wheedles. “It’s been more than a ten-day.”

“And just what can’t wait until you’re not at risk of losing your leg or your life, trooper?” 

“Have you been watching the holonet? Have you heard what they’re saying about Luke and Vader? We need to be doing something to help!”

“ _What_?! What’ve they been saying?” Fives interrupts, raising his voice to be heard. “Hardcase? What have you heard?”

“No holonet in here; my patients must rest,” Quick insists firmly.

“They’re saying that Vader’s trying to take over the galaxy or something, that Palpatine was his master. They’re saying Luke was helping the Chancellor,” Hardcase says hotly. “It’s _kriffing banthashit_ and someone needs to set the record straight. They were heroes!”

“ _Who’s_ saying that?” Fives asks angrily, forgetting himself for a moment and trying to sit up only for all the monitors around him to start beeping angrily this time. “Why would _anyone_ –?” he begins, in turns furious and horrified. 

“Stay down, trooper!” Quick yells rushing over to his bed.

“What’s going on out there?” Fives asks in frustration. “Quick, what’ve you heard?”

“Why would I hear anything? I’m a field medic not a holonews reporter!”

“There’s some rumors going around,” Mixer pipes up from the other side of the ward. “Uni told me about it when he stopped by. He found it on some civvie holonet message boards. They say the Order’s going to hunt down Vader for going after Palpatine and his allies. And then Uni heard from Bats who heard from a shiny who heard from a Jedi youngling who heard from Waxer who heard from Dogma that the Council met in the Temple gardens and _they’re_ saying that Luke wasn’t even a Jedi Knight and is no different from Palpatine.” 

“ _Banthashit_ ,” Hardcase snarls. “What’d I tell you, total _kriffing banthashit_! Those _skrags_! We need to do something. Fives, Fives we need to–!”

“And what exactly are you going to do about it, may I ask?” Quick asks in exasperation, rounding on Hardcase. “Don’t you think Captain Rex already knows?”  
  
“Luke was _our_ teacher. He was _our_ Commander,” Fives argues. “Hardcase is right. We’re troopers; even laid up there’s got to be something we can do to help. They don’t get to lie about this! Not this!” he snarls.

Mixer and the others who are awake voiced their loud agreement to Five’s words, some sitting up, others trying to stand. Quick turns around frantically, not sure where to go first to stop the full scale uprising of his patients.

“We could help with reports, or gather intel, tell the Council or-or does 99 know about this? What do the Marshals have to say? What are they doing to stop this?” Fives continues, lifting his head slightly. “Where’s Echo, is he still on duty? Where’s Hack Squad? We need a holoscreen in here. We need to comm the 104th and the 212th. Where’s Vader? What–”

“All right! _All right_! I’ll get a holoscreen in here if and only if you all get back into your beds this second troopers, do you understand me?” Quick yells, reaching the end of his rope. “Lie back down!”

Grumbling, the men obey.

“Get a big one, we all need to be able to see and hear,” Hardcase insists as he relaxes back down. 

“Don’t push your luck,” Quick retorts. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll see what I can do,” he adds a bit softer.

“And tell Chatterbox and Flare to come by. We need to talk about what we’re going to do,” Fives calls out.

“ _Sleep_!”

* * *

CXIX.

Obi-Wan thought he had set the bottle down on the edge of the table, but it turned out he’d missed by quite a margin. He stared at the shattered glass and alcohol on the floor. It was such a waste of good liquor, he mourned. Luckily, the Lake House had a fully stocked bar.  
  
Grabbing his glass, Obi-Wan went to get another bottle, knocking over a chair and a decorative plant along the way. 

“What is going on in here?” Padme entered the room in a rush. “I heard a noise and–“ She stopped in her tracks.

The Jedi Master turned slowly, bottle and glass now in hand. “Sene-nator,” he said in greeting and then turned his attention to getting more drink into his glass.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re getting drunk,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No. I am getting blackout drunk. I am getting _sooo_ drunk I stop thinking for a few hours . . . so I stop seeing it-- him, every time I blink.”

Her face grew wary. “You watched the vid.”

“I _watched_ the _vid_ ,” he confirmed toasting her and then knocking back the entire glass. “What an excellent suggestion you had. I didn’t realize what a total and abject failure I was until I _watched the vid_. Thank you for that.” He wiped his mouth with his hand, nearly dropping the bottle. 

“Obi-Wan …”

“I’m not sure how much worse I can screw up. I let that monster near my Padawan, let him do Force know what to him since he was a boy, only a boy. I am quite su--re,” he continued staggering and nearly tripping on the fallen chair as he came closer to her. “No one has failed their padawan as greatly as I have in the history of the Order.” He waved his hand to cut her off when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “No, no really. Jedi have lost students before, yes, yes. My own Master lost a student. Xanatos. Always trying to kill me.” He concentrated for a long moment and poured himself another drink. “But to _kriff_ up so badly that your Fallen Sith Lord student comes _back in time_ to fix things, now that’s a new low, a low low, the lowest low, deserving of a place of im-infan- imfamma- of _dishonor_ in the Archives.”

Padme grabbed hold of the bottle and the glass and yanked them out of Obi-Wan’s hands before he could take another drink. “Enough of this. I know you’re hurt and shocked, but–“  
  
“I was going to talk to Anakin.” He stepped backward, reaching for the couch, missed it and slid down to the floor. “I was going to talk to him but he’s not talking. No more words. None. All gone.” He looked down at his empty hands in despair. “He’s in the nursery, sleeping on the floor. He did that sometimes back-back in the beginning. He wasn’t used to the sleep couch. He was cold, always so cold. So he’d make a nest in a corner of his room near the heat vent. I used to tell him off for hoarding blankets. He was just cold but I told him off. I was cold–he, I, he was cold. I was such a bad Master.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to lie to him anymore, Padme. I don’t want to tell him that the war is good, that the Order knows what it’s doing, that he’s doing good, and he needs to keep fighting and fighting and _fighting_.” He closed his eyes. “He’s very good a fighting and killing,” he said mournfully.

“Yes,” Padme agreed softly setting down the bottle and the glass. “Anakin’s very good at killing. All of the Jedi are.”

“You sound like Satine,” he said crossly, glaring at her. “ _Warriors can’t be peacekeepers. Soldiers can only do one thing. If your only tool is a weapon, everyone looks like a target_ ,” he parrots in a Mandalore accent.

“I can’t say I disagree. That was probably the plan all along.”

“And he was in front of us the whole time. We saved his life a dozen times. He talked of democracy and we happily helped build his Sith Empire for him,” Obi-Wan spat. “He played the kindly old man while he dripped poison into my Padawan’s ear. I let him– I _let_ him–“ He wiped one shaking hand over his face and breathed, trying to release his anger. The Force, oh the Force felt far _far_ away. “And he won. He won. Damn his eyes. _Damn him_. Vader is proof of that. Force knows what they did . . . _After_. Killed everyone, I imagine.” He touched his throat, remembering the durasteel grip, the black fury that shook him down to his bones.

“Now that you know, what will you do?” Padme asked after a long moment.

He blinked blearily up at her. “Do?”

“Do you plan to tell the Jedi Order? Do you plan to lock Anakin up or punish him or kill him preemptively?”   
  
“ _What_? No! _No_ , of course not! Anakin is _not_ Vader!” he yelled defensively. “How can you even _say_ that?”

“Anakin was terrified to tell you about our marriage, about the children. He believed you to be more loyal to the Order and the Council than to him. He believed you would judge him and worse for his attachments. It was more than just the nightmare visions he was afraid of; he thought you would take the children because he was too dangerous. Now you have proof that somewhere, some _when_ he Fell or went bad or whatever it is you call it. What am I supposed to think?” 

Obi-Wan sputtered at that but some part of him whispered that Anakin had every right to be afraid of him. 

Padme continued on. “The war and constant fighting have taken a toll. My husband is suffering and in pain. Your Order teaches that those types of feelings aren’t allowed, that they lead to the Dark side, to somehow becoming evil in an instant. Knowing that in some other time and place he became Vader . . . I have a right to know what you plan to do to my husband.”

“ _Nothing_! I plan to do nothing!” Obi-Wan tried to stand. “He’s my brother. I love him! I would never– I could never kill him! _Never_!”

She watched him, judged him, silent and disbelieving.

“I _promised_ him. I promised Anakin I would stay with him and help make things right. I meant it. Forget about the–the Council and the war. I said I wanted to help and _I will_ , Padme. Not because of the Code or the Order or-or some promise to my dying Master, but because I care for him and I don’t want to see him hurting, not anymore, not if I can help it. I’m going to help. _I swear it_.”

“And Vader?” Padme asked softly. “Will you help him too?”

“ ** _Vader_**?” Obi-Wan drew back in horror and shock.

“He’s lost everyone and everything. His son … _my son_ is dead.” Her voice cracked. “There is a word in Basic and in Nubian for a child who has lost their parents, for a person who has lost their spouse. There is _no word_ in Nubian or Basic for what to call a parent who has outlived their child. Vader is alone now. He is your Padawan too. Your brother. He will need our help.”

“I … Padme, he’s a Sith,” Obi-Wan tried to explain.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “And what, Sith can’t be redeemed? Sith can’t make new and better choices? Sith can’t save the galaxy and defeat evil? I don’t believe that,” she said sharply. “No one is irredeemable if they are truly repentant and are willing to atone. I don’t care what his name is now or what he looks like, he was once Anakin Skywalker. _My_ husband. The father of _my_ children. I would recognize him anywhere and not just by what he’s done these past two years to help the galaxy.”  
  
“Padme, once a Jedi starts down the Dark path, their destiny is fixed and dominated by death and suffering. The Force--”

“He saved us all. He and Luke _saved us all_. And now, our son is dead. And now, he is alone.” She pierced him with a look and suddenly crouched down to his level. “For the love you bear for Anakin, you will help not only him but Vader as well,” she commanded. 

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. It went against everything he had been taught and believed his whole life. But then again, what he believed and was taught said that time travel was impossible and that Sith were incapable of good. 

Vader had already disproved both points.

And he was alone. 

Anakin never made good choices when he was left all alone.

It made him dizzy just thinking about it. But then again, it may be the alcohol.

“I will do all I can,” he promised.

* * *

CXX. 

The holoprojector sprang to life and the room was now filled with flickering blue figures, most standing at attention, some clearly worse for wear after recent events. Rex snapped to as well as the diminutive bent figure of 99 appeared, seated at the table.

“It is good to see you all brothers,” he said with a smile. “Captain Rex, you commed that you needed help. Well, help is here,” he said gesturing at the clone Marshals assembled for the meeting. “Tell us what you need.”

Rex stepped forward and took a deep breath and began. “The _Dauntless_ has left orbit of Coruscant to follow behind Vader. The _Pioneer_ under the command of Appo remains to coordinate the removal of the chips from all the men on Coruscant. The _Resolute_ is still in the Nubian system. The issue is . . .” and here he trailed off. It seemed like such a silly thing to say aloud but when he’d messaged 99 his older brother insisted that this meeting would help. “The issue is what to do next. I know it was decided that Vader’s mission was vital to the safety of the Republic but . . . I’m concerned that without a larger strategy we’re just going to run ourselves ragged.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, looking around at Commanders Bacara and Blackout, Gree and Silver. “When Luke was alive– when he was alive there was a purpose, a goal. We were stopping the war. We were freeing our brothers. Now the war is over . . .” He struggled to find the words but they escaped him. He looked to 99, hoping for some help, hoping he’d not just made a fool of himself.

“Now that the war is over, what’s to become of us?” Zak asked. “Who do we answer to now? The Senate? The Order?”

“Not the Senate,” Fox snarled, his anger palpable. “ _Never_ the Senate.” As the last remaining living commander of the Coruscant Guard his words went unchallenged. 

“We’ve betrayed the Order,” Commander Neyo said in a thin voice, not looking up. “We betrayed them. We killed them. We can’t– _we c-can’t_ \--” 

Rex tried not stare at him in pity. The Commander had killed Jedi Master Stass Allie when Palpatine had executed Order 66. He wasn’t taking things well, but at least he hadn’t swallowed his blaster like Thirre and all the other Coruscant Guard Commanders save Fox. 

“We’re-we’re soldiers,” 99 said. “Being soldiers is what we were bred for. But we’re more than just numbers. We’ve got Names. We may have the same heart but we’ve got different strengths, different ways we can help. We’ve just got to decide how and-and who we want to help now.”

“Are you suggestion we become soldiers for hire or something?” Gregor asked in disgust. “ _Mercenaries_?”

“No-no. I think that maybe, maybe we focus on doing more of the types of missions that Luke had the 501st doing before Palpatine. The famine on Dantooine, helping the refugees on Charros-- the Duchess really liked that. Or-or freeing the slaves? Why can’t we make that how we serve the Republic?”

“Wait a minute, are you suggesting . . . are you saying that we do what the _Jedi_ used to do? _Before_ the war?” Bly asked incredulously.

The other commanders shifted, some nervously, others with excitement. Cody, still confined to a hoverchair as he healed from the _Negotiator_ ’s crash, stared chuckling. 

“We’re not Jedi. We don’t have the Force!” Bly protested. 

“We don’t need the Force to be the best,” Wolffe retorted. “And some of us do have the Force like 99. General Koon and Waxer and the others are finding more Force sensitive brothers every day. The Jedi Order has enough to worry about as it is. The galaxy’s a big place and from what I’ve seen of the Temple, I think they could use the help. Besides, as nice as some of the planets the League is letting us settle on look like, I’m not ready to retire any time soon.”

Rex blinked at that. _Retire_. It was an actual possibility now. A choice. 

A clone could retire.

A clone could _choose_.

“What do you think, Captain?” 99 asked. “Do you think we can do it?”

Rex’s thoughts were racing, lightyears a second. A whole new vista of opportunities seemed open before him. He’d gone from having no idea how to move forward to having so many choices. “I think . . . I think Luke may’ve left us a way to do just that.”

* * *

CXXI.

Krennic has surrounded himself with bodyguards but it makes no difference. They die screaming under Vader’s blade. He stops briefly at a computer terminal to infect it with the worm Hack Squad has prepared for him and continues the hunt. 

Vader is trying to treat this like any other mission. He tries to remind himself that this is no different than hunting down Rebels or the Death Star plans but the mere thought of that turns his stomach.

(Leia. He had tortured his own daughter).

(Luke. He had cut off his son’s hand and beat him black and blue).

But at least the hate is better than the grief. It may burn inside him but it is better than collapsing numb and powerless under the weight of sorrow.

Vader finally breaks into the last panic room and Krennic shoots at him frantically. It is all too easy to block the blaster bolts, tear the weapon from the man’s hand, and strangle him. He watches as Krennic collapses, turns blue and then purple and then finally gagging drops dead to the floor. 

Vader grips his lightsaber tighter and looks down at the body. It is good that Krennic is dead and his weapon plans destroyed. 

But Vader can feel no satisfaction. He still _hates_ and wishes that Krennic had somehow marshaled more of a challenge against him, provided more targets for him to vent his rage against. He casts his mind out. Perhaps there are still some bodyguards or droids left alive. Perhaps there is someone else he can kill or destroy.

But no. He has been thorough. There is no threat left alive. 

Everyone is dead.

He turns and goes back to the computer terminal. Maybe there is a new trail to follow, a new name he will recognize and he can start the hunt again.

(The Emperor’s Hound, his attack dog, Sith monster, the Emperor’s pet killer sniffing out more prey . . .)

Vader draws himself up short. He’d hunted Luke this way, chasing down leads, slaughtering as he went and in the end it was the Force, not a threat, that brought his son to his side.

Without thinking, Vader reaches out through the Force for his son.

_–dark, warm, sad, pain, **burning** –_

Vader wrenches himself away from the baby’s Force presence, cursing himself. He _knows_ better! His Force presence filled with hate and anger overwhelms the baby. He will destroy both of the children if he is not careful, if he cannot control his weak, pitiful ways. He needs to stop reaching out. 

There is no one to reach back. 

Luke is dead.

He stares at the computer screen blankly. What is he going to do now? he wonders bleakly.

Vader considers his still lit saber for a long moment.

His commlink beeps. He answers it.

“Captain Rex reporting, sir. We’ve just arrived in orbit. We have a company ready to join you on the surface if need be.”

Vader disengages his saber.

“There is no need Captain. The target is dead. I have destroyed the files. I will rendezvous with the ship shortly.” 

“Understood sir. Oh, and sir?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“We have some information to brief you on when you arrive on board.”

“Very well. Vader out.”

Vader turns and begins the journey back to the _Twilight_. Perhaps the 501st will have a new mission. Perhaps Hack Squad has found another danger that needs to be destroyed. Perhaps there is still something useful he can do even if it is just hunting and killing.

It is what he is best at, after all.


	4. In Which Everyone Gets a New Mission

(CHAPTER 14)

CXXII.

When the _Twilight_ finally docked with the _Dauntless_ , Captain Rex found himself nearly running after Vader who wouldn't even stand and listen to his status report.

“Have Senator Taa or any of the others been located?” Vader asked as he strode off of the flight deck.  
  
“Nothing confirmed yet, but the GAR has contacted the locals on Ryloth. He will be taken into custody the second he shows himself. The Twi'lek Resistance was very interested in all those files that Slice and the others found. But sir, that wasn’t what we wanted to brief you on. The men and I wanted to discuss the Hutts, sir.”

That brought Vader to an unexpected sudden stop.

“ _The Hutts_?” Vader practically hissed. 

“Yes, sir, the Tatooine campaign you were working on . . . _before_.” Rex raised the datapad he'd found in Vader and Luke's office. “I spoke to the Marshals. There is a consensus among the men that we should finish the reconstruction efforts we started and there’s no way to make any meaningful headway until the slave trade ends once and for all. There are some concerns about when to begin, given that we are down to just one destroyer and so many of us are still in medical quarters. We can’t set up the necessary blockade with so few resources so we’re either going to have to improvise or wait for reinforcements but–"

“The campaign is voluntary. No man shall be required to join the fight. _However_ . . . if any troopers choose to come, their focus will be on search, rescue, and liberation. You will leave the attack _to me_.” With that Vader resumed his punishing pace forward.

“Sir, all reports show the entire planet is infested with slavers. Hutt control is not centralized. We'll need more time to develop a strategy–”

Vader turned and pointed emphatically at Rex. “I have waited _a lifetime_ to begin this campaign, Captain. The yearly auctions have already begun. I will not see another summer pass before bringing freedom to that planet.” 

Rex didn’t back down. “If we do this now, sir, the casualty numbers among the civilians could be staggering. Tens of thousands could die if we don’t have the manpower to mount a coordinate planetwide attack.” 

“No slave fears death,” Vader intoned. “Death is merely freedom from pain. Unless there is word from Ryloth in the next five-day, our course is set for Tatooine.” And with that Vader entered the lift and left Rex alone in the corridor.

Rex closed his eyes for a brief moment. He’d hoped bringing up Tatooine as a possible mission target would remind Vader of the way things used to be when Luke was alive. He’d hoped that planning the Tatooine campaign would be a way for Vader to grieve and move on from the loss of his son. That was what brothers did. When they lost squad mates, they focused on the mission in honor of their fallen. But it didn’t look like it was working. Instead, he’d handed Vader a new set of targets while a large number of the men were still recuperating. This was not going as planned and he only had five days for Senator Taa to surface or he had to find a way to take out an entire planet of slaver scum with only one destroyer containing mostly wounded men.

* * *

CXXIII.

At long last Vader’s path was clear.

Ryloth could wait. He could leave Ryloth in the capable hands of the 212th and the guerilla forces of Cham Syndulla. There was only one goal now: Tatooine.

( _“I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came back here and freed all the slaves. I dreamed it just the other night, when I was out in the desert. Have you come to free us?_ ”)

No more delays. No more waiting. No more excuses. The time was now and this time there was no one to stop him.  
  
Not Qui-Gon, not the Order, not Obi-Wan, not the war, not Republic laws and treaties, not the Emperor. 

No one. 

( _Once he dreamed he was a great and feared commander of an army, and he came back to Tatooine with ships and troops at his command to free the planet’s slaves. His mother was waiting for him, smiling, arms outstretched._ )

He banished the thought; there was no mother waiting for him amid the dunes.

(No daughter. No son.)

He had a real purpose now. A worthwhile target. 

(A target he felt no shame pursuing.)

At long last he wielded the power he’d dreamt of in the desert long ago.

At long last he was free to use that power any way he wanted.

And his way was to slaughter every last slaver once and for all.  
  
“ _That’s_ your plan to deal with Jabba? Attack him head on without the men? How is that better than what I did?”

Vader looked stonily ahead, waiting for the lift doors to open. 

“At least wait until Fives and Hardcase are up and about. Chatterbox, Flare, Left Foot and the others may not be enough.”

He strode out onto the deck, refusing to stop, nearly barreling over a pair of troopers who hurriedly flattened themselves against the bulkhead to let him pass.

“And just _how_ are you going to get into his Palace? It’s not easy, believe me.”

Without warning, Vader opened the door to the comm hub that Hack Squad had coopted for themselves on the _Dauntless_. “Is there any news on Senator Taa’s whereabouts?”

“S-sir,” Wires managed around a mouthful of caf, pulling himself away from the multiple holoscreens that filled the room. “We didn’t expect-- er . . .”

“Senator Taa?”

“Yes sir, sorry sir!” Gin said hurriedly. “There’s been no sign of him. Nothing from any of our contacts. Last reports still puts him as heading to Ryloth.”

“Then _what_ . . . is _this_?” Vader asked, gesturing at the myriad news and other commentators that seemed to fill multiple holoscreen with babble. He leaned forward to read the flashing headlines.

Our Saviors in Black Or Our New Overlords?

Jedi Order Claims War’s Not Over!

Historians Weigh In On Ancient Sith Power Struggles!

Palpatine Defeated Or Just Replaced? Jedi Order Warns of New Threat!

Are Cries for Peace An Elaborate Seperatist Plot?

“I see,” he hissed.

Hack Squad winced at his tone. 

“None of the legitimate news outlets are covering this, sir. This is all on the more underground dark news boards,” Slice said quickly, desperate to explain. “We heard some rumors from troops recovering at the Temple and decided to check it out preemptively. It isn’t being given much weight by the public.”

“The _Order_ is the source of this travesty?” 

“Well – er– I heard from Bats who heard from CC-5689 who heard from a Jedi youngling who heard from–” Uni broke off and swallowed hard. “W-well the long and the short of it is the Council said that–that Commander Luke, that Commander Luke . . . wasn’t a Jedi which means they think he-he was a . . . ” he trailed off and shot a desperate, pleading look towards his squad mates. 

Enraged, Vader clenched his fists and two holoscreens exploded. “My son was _not_ a Sith!”

“Of course, sir! We know that, sir!”

Vader was incensed by the injustice of it all.

The Order had gone too far this time.

He’d wiped them out last time. 

He’d ignored them this time. 

For Luke. He’d done it for Luke.

But Luke was gone now.

(Did that matter?)

“I want these filthy lies squashed. Contact whoever you need to, use any means necessary, but I want the lies stopped or I will have no choice but to silence the source of them once and for all.” 

“Yes, sir!”

* * *

CXXIV.

Mace Windu left Corsucant with a mandate from the Jedi High Council. He was to find Vader and kill him before he could take advantage of the chaos in the galaxy and take command of the nascent Sith Empire that Palpatine was building. 

Not everyone on the Council agreed with this course of action. Ki-Al-Mundi questioned whether Vader truly was a Sith. His actions and the loyalty of the 501st showed he was something very different, he argued. 

Shaak Ti wanted the Order to focus more on shoring up their debilitated ranks spread thin over the galaxy, if not outright recalling every Knight and Master and Padawan back to the Temple. 

And Obi-Wan, well . . . his reasoning was much more unorthodox.

(“There is _no_ evidence that Vader is amassing power or desires to control the galaxy,” Obi-Wan argued.

“Master Obi-Wan,” Yoda began after a moment of stunned silence settled over the Councilors. “Identified as a Sith by Palpatine he was.”

“Forgive me, Master but why are we still accepting the word of Palpatine as truth?” was the acid reply, sharply rebuking all of the other Jedi. Mace exchanged a surprised glance with the Grandmaster. Kenobi wasn’t pulling any punches in his truly bizarre defense of the Sith. “Vader has spent two years _stopping_ the war and uncovering the corruption we were too blind to see. Using our resources to hunt him down goes against the very spirit of what it means to be a Jedi. We are not assassins and we are not authorized to play judge, jury, or executioner!”

“But it is acceptable when Vader acts as judge, jury, an executioner?” Master Koth questions pointedly.

“Vader has never claimed to be a Jedi. We, on the other hand, _are Jedi_. We hold ourselves to a higher standard. How do his acts justify us murdering him?”

“This would not be murder. We are at war.”

“The war is over. We are on the eve of an historic galactic peace accord. What you are proposing exceeds the boundaries of our mandate, of the law, and of our values!”

“Save for another time this philosophical debate, Master Kenobi. Identity of the Sith we have long sought to find,” Yoda said. “Revealed, they now are. To put and end to their ways, we must. Master Windu, we will send on this mission. Confirm the death of the son and end Vader he will.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “This will not go the way you think it will. I am telling you now, this is a grave mistake.”) 

It was funny, Mace thought to himself, how much Obi-Wan reminded him of Qui-Gon when Obi-Wan used to disapprove so of his Master’s ways. Nevertheless, for all skills as a Knight and a Jedi Master, Kenobi could be short sighted, too focused on the individual rather than the needs of the galaxy as a whole. 

The Republic and the Order were on the brink of the abyss. It was up to the Jedi to protect it or watch the galaxy fall to darkness. 

Killing Vader was the only way to put a stop to Palpatine’s plans once and for all. 

Sure in his mission, he set course for Mandalore. The intelligence reports pointed to a strong connection between the Sith and the League of Neutral Systems. He was now going to find out just how neutral Duchess Satine Kryze really was.

* * *

CXXV.

Ahsoka had traveled by shuttle, by speeder, by kaadu, by foot, and was now at small jetty planning to take a boat to where her Master was. She felt a flutter of uncertainty. She doubted any Jedi Padawan had ever visited their Master’s _family_ in living memory.

Ahsoka hadn’t really done creche duty and the last time she’d held a baby, it was Jabba’s son. Would her Master make her carry them? Feed them? _Change_ them? She didn’t know a thing about taking care of babies! What if she dropped one?

No, she was a Jedi Padawan and a Clone Wars veteran of dozens of missions. She could handle two babies. It wasn’t like her Master would refuse to Knight her if she wasn’t good with younglings, right?

There was nothing to be nervous about. It would be fine, babies or no babies. After years together, she knew Anakin as well as just about anyone. Master Obi-Wan was as much a part of her training as Skyguy. Padme was no stranger to her either. They’d bonded over battle-ready yet stylish fashion, Force visions, and assassination attempts. She considered all of them her . . . her . . . 

And _here_ her training failed to provide guidance.  
  
Friends? Colleagues? Teachers? Mentors?

( _Kriff, it all!_ Even the troopers called each other _brother_!) 

Dare she say that this was what it felt like to visit your parents?

(Or more accurately, your reckless older brother who was _somehow_ the one raising you, your long-suffering uncle, and, well, _your Mom_?)

And now there were babies. Newborns. Twins.

She knew nothing about babies!

 _No!_ She chastised herself. _Focus!_ _Get across the lake and then figure things out._

As she went for the nearest watercraft, the Force whispered a faint warning. Leaping away from the sudden unexpected attack, she ended up knee deep in water. She raised her sabers and peered into the early dusk.  
  
“I’m a Jedi Padawan on a mission from the Council! Show yourselves!” she called out.

Something with sharp claws grabbed her ankles and yanked hard.

As she went down, she swung with her saber and missed. They were on her in a flash, her weapons knocked from her hands, the bags on her back weighing her down even in the shallow water. She dodged swipes and threw punches as best she could; at one point throwing one of her adversaries from her with a massive Force push.

“Enough! Lir, _stop_! She’s a friend!”

With that, the fight ceased and her remaining opponent vanished. Sputtering, Ahsoka struggled to stand. She recognized that voice.

“Obi-Wan?”

“It’s all right. It’s all right now.” He waded into the lake to give her a hand up. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner to meet you. They didn’t mean you any harm.”

“Didn’t mean me any harm? Are you– * _cough_ * – are you kidding? Who the Sith hell are _they_?”

“They’re . . . bodyguards and this is their first mission. They’re just a little overzealous.”

“Bodyguards?!” she asked incredulously as she began to cast about for her sabers. 

Suddenly both lightsaber hilts were shoved under her nose, a wiry figure seemed to melt out of the evening darkness from nowhere to hand them to her.

“Thank you, Evr’shkimkh. Yes, bodyguards,” he answered as he took one of the sodden backpacks from her. “Vader sent them to protect the children.”

Ahsoka tried futilely to wipe her dripping face. “Master Obi-Wan, what is going on? _Why_ would Vader send bodyguards? Where did he even find . . . _them_? What kind of people would agree to be hired by him? Is Anakin all right? What about Padme? Who is threatening the twins? Palpatine is dead, right? _Right_? Obi-Wan--”

“Ahsoka, let’s just–”

“Obi-Wan clan Kenobi,” another shadowy shape said with a low growl causing her to jump in spite of herself. In their outstretched palms were shards of a broken pot, earth, and a bedraggled leafy vine. 

“Damn it. I’m sorry I dropped it, Master.”  
  
“Oh, my plant! How thoughtful. Nevermind about the pot. Let’s all just get across the lake, dry off, and then we’ll talk.”

“Yes, _let’s_ ,” Ahsoka said eyeing her assailants dubiously. It just figured. The moment she left her Master alone he inevitable found new and interesting trouble.

* * *

CXXVI.

In the _Dauntless_ ’ medbay, it was louder than Quick normally allowed but when the medic protested he'd been roundly outvoted by his brothers.

“It’s not going to work,” Fives insisted.

“It will,” Flare argued. “Remember with the Zygerrians–“  
  
“With the Zygerrians, we had all three destroyers plus the smaller cruisers. We are down to just the _Dauntless_.”

“Maybe we don’t need to blockade the planet for this to work,” Echo offered to his brother, tapping away at his datapad. “If we take out the spaceport here, then–”

“The whole planet is crawling with smuggler ships capable of hyperdrive. Remember where General Skywalker got the _Twilight_?” Jesse asked with a huff. “Face it, we can’t do this alone.”

“Look, no one says anyone has to do this mission,” Fives said sharply. “This is voluntary. That’s the way Luke would've wanted it. Luke and Vader have _never_ ordered us to do anything we haven’t wanted to do. That’s not changing now. If you don’t want to help, then sit this one out.”

“Hey, no one’s saying they want to sit this thing out!” Jesse protested, raising his hands. “No one’s saying that.”

“We’re just thinking it,” Mixer muttered.

“You bunch of laserbrains, you’re all forgetting the most important thing,” Hardcase said. “We’ve got _Vader_ with us on this. He’s a one man division. A Hutt and some slaver scum aren’t going to stop him.”

“Vader can’t be everywhere at once and he can’t protect everyone at once,” Redeye argued. “We should wait, wait until–“

“There will be no waiting,” Rex said sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Vader says auction season is starting. We’re on liberation; Hack Squad’s is dealing with the rumor mill; Vader alone will handle offense.”

The men were quiet a moment, taking in the information. They could all too easily imagine what auction season must be like. 

“I’m volunteering, Captain.” Hardcase said breaking the tension in the room.

“No, you’re not,” Quick replied. 

“I’m healed. It’s stopped bleeding. The bandage is just for show anyway,” he insisted, poking at it absently. “Chatterbox, are you going?” The other clone nodded. “Fives, what about you?”

“Fives is not getting up for at least another week,” Quick snarled. “And if you’re lucky, Hardcase, in another week, I might let you out on light duty. _Maybe_.”

“It will take us a while to get to Tatooine anyway,” Echo assured Hardcase. “With the war over and the Republic/Hutt treaties null and void; we can’t take their hyperspace lanes. Even with things calm with the Seperatists, we can’t just be using any old route to get to the Rim. We’re going to have to take the long way 'round.”

“Well that’s something at least,” Jesse said. “Captain, do you think you can get Vader to wait for Appo and the others before then? Just in case Senator Taa doesn’t show his face on Ryloth.”  
  
Rex raised one brow in disbelief at the cocky question. “Don’t push your luck, soldier. We have our orders. If you don’t like them, you can stay aboard ship.”

“Oh, no, I’m going,” Jesse insisted. “The Hutts can join the Zygerrians, the Kaminoans, and Palpatine in hell as far as I’m concerned. I just want to be sure we're able to do maximum damage.”

“This is _Vader_ we’re talking about,” Rex reminded him. “Maximum damage is pretty much SOP. Rest up, this is going to be a hell of a fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two sections put in parentheses and italics found in CXXIII are quotes taken directly from the novel "Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace" by Terry Brooks (1999), at pgs. 131 and 77-78.


	5. In Which Duchess Satine Suffers a Visit From A Jedi and Ahsoka Just Wants To See Her Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recall this is a non-linear story in more ways than one. We will jump forward in time and we will jump back.

(CHAPTER 15)

CXXVII.

There was sand. It surrounded him, filled the air, choked him with ever breath he took. 

The dry air _burned_ him.

But he fought on. 

There was the scream of lightsabers smashing against each other.

There was another scream, a scream of pain.

It sounded like a child. 

His opponent vanished into the storm. 

He turned, desperate, trying to see, to find the enemy.

He reached through the Force, searching, _searching_ . . .

Every breath was a struggle.

There was a red glow. A lightsaber’s deadly hum.

Someone was still screaming.

Someone was calling a name, the sound stolen by the wind.

A woman’s voice. He _knew_ that voice! He had to– he had to--

The attack came again.

There was blood. There was pain.

Darkness swallowed what light remained, not just the light around him but all the lights everywhere. They were put out one by one until all of Coruscant, all of the galaxy was snuffed out and there were no stars, there was was _nothing_ , nothing left but the _Dark_ and the _screaming_ and---

–and Mace woke, drenched in sweat. He barely made it to the ship’s tiny ‘fresher before he vomited. He heaved until there was nothing more than bile coming out of him, his body twisting and shuddering, betraying itself. 

His head was throbbing with pain. His hands shook in spite of himself as he brought water to his mouth to rinse out the foul taste.

His ability to see shatterpoints had never been pleasant but ever since the day Palpatine was revealed as the Sith Master, ever since he’d stood at the Temple’s gate as the Order was nearly exterminated by their own men, his foresight had intensified. His sense of faultlines in others, in critical events, had become visions. Those visions had then turned into repetitive nightmares that always seemed to end in the same way.

In darkness.

The Temple, the Senate, the planets, the galaxy, all lost in the dark.

Steeling himself, he exited the refresher and headed for the comm system, hiding his still trembling hands deep into the folds of his cloak.

Yoda’s holographic image appeared. 

“More premonitions you have?” the wizened old master asked.

“They are growing stronger.”

“The same, these visions?”

Mace nodded. “Pain, suffering, darkness, and death.”

“Clearer this time they were?”

“There was someone. I heard a woman’s voice. A child as well.”

Yoda closed his eyes and hummed. “Recognized them, did you?”

He hesitated and reached for the Force, trying to ignore the pain still stabbing behind his eyes with every beat of his heart. “Depa. It was _Depa_.”

“Careful you must be when sensing the future. The fear of loss is a path to the Dark side. If others die, mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. ”

Mace knew this to be true. If his old student died it was a natural part of life. He would do as all Jedi must and rejoice in her transformation into the Force.

“But the Order, the _Republic_. . . we cannot let these visions come to pass, Master Yoda. We cannot let them fall.”

Yoda nodded solemnly in agreement. “The Dark side no longer clouds our vision. Trust the Force we must. Of vital importance this mission is. On this, all depends. Too high to pay, no cost is.”  
  
“I understand. I will do what I must to see that the Republic endures.”

* * *

CXXVIII.

“So let me get this straight,” Ahsoka began, counting on her fingers as she went. “ _None_ of the Order had the slightest idea that Palpatine was the Sith Master before he admitted it on the Galactic Holonet. Vader's off killing all of Palpatine’s cronies and the Senate, the Seperatists, and the League don’t have a problem with that. We’re _not_ telling the Order about Anakin being married to Senator Amidala or the newborn Force sensitive twins. Anakin isn’t speaking and hasn’t in weeks. And Vader has _somehow_ earned the loyalty of an entire planet of invisible assassins that I’ve never heard of and he’s sent them here to watch over Padme and the twins for the rest of their lives. And everyone’s . . . _okay_ with this? Did I miss something?!”

“Padawan, calm down.” 

“No, Master. I will not calm down. The entire galaxy has obviously gone crazy. Crazier. I mean, _you’re_ on the Council. I thought it was a bit strange that _the Council_ sent me on a mission to “ _Find Master Skywalker_ ” when Cody told me you left Coruscant with him, but I thought, there must be a reason. There must be a security issue involving Vader or the Senator or the Separatists or _something_. I told myself, just get to Naboo and Master Anakin will explain everything. I didn’t expect you to be literally _hiding out_ from the Order under _Vader’s_ protection!”

“It is not what you think. The Council does not have all the facts and unfortunately the situation is still too volatile to tell them everything. _This_ ,” he said, gesturing to the villa in which they found themselves in, “is temporary. Once the Accords are negotiated and signed–”

“What _happened_ on Corsucant? What are you not telling me? Why can’t I see my Master?” she demanded.

“Ahsoka, you don’t understand–”

“Then _tell_ me! Tell me the truth!” she yelled.

Obi-Wan looked physically pained for a long moment and then nodded as if coming to a great decision. “Very well. I will tell you once I have asked Anakin’s and Padme’s permission. _No_ ,” he said firmly when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “No, I will _not_ tell you without doing that first. What you are asking me to disclose are not my secrets. You will wait.”

And with that the Jedi Master left the room. 

With a frustrated sigh, Ahsoka sat down on the couch. She tried to focus, tried to calm her thoughts. 

Faster than she expected, Obi-Wan returned, this time with Senator Amidala who was obviously dressed for bed. She was following behind him. In her arms she held a child.

She jumped to her feet at the sight of them. “Senator! I- er- thank you for allowing me to come into your home.”

“Please, after everything that’s happened you can call me Padme. We’re family and you are always welcome, Ahsoka. I heard you were injured bringing down the _Negotiator_. I'm relieved to see you are all right. What you did was very heroic.”

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time. I’m just glad I could help. Congratulations on the birth, the twins.” 

“Yes,” she said with a sad smile looking at the infant in her arms. “Anakin is giving Leia her bath but I believe you’ve already met our son, Luke. You traveled with him and his father for some time.” 

Ahsoka blinked at that, trying to parse out what Padme had just said. “I’m . . . sorry? I don’t–”

With that, Padme passed her son over to Ahsoka who flailed for a moment before cradling the baby close. “ _Luke_ , our _son_.”

The Force seemed to shiver around her; something finally settling into place.

Ahsoka looked at Padme. She stared at the child. Its eyes were open and were a familiar shade of blue. She looked up at Padme, shaking her head slowly. “I-I . . . I don’t understand–”

“The baby you hold in your arms and the man, the Jedi Knight who helped save the galaxy, are _both_ my sons,” she explained softly. “The monster we knew as Sheev Palpatine, Darth Sidious, spent years grooming my husband. For over a decade he worked patiently to _break_ Anakin. In some other time and place he succeeded and Anakin Skywalker Fell to the Dark and became a Sith Lord. In _this_ time and place, Palpatine's plans failed because _Luke Skywalker_ and _Darth Vader_ came back to stop him.”

Ahsoka gaped. She looked down at the baby in her arms. She looked at Obi-Wan, hoping, praying that he would deny this-this _fantasy_ , say it wasn’t true. But there was nothing in his eyes but mourning.

Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker?

Anakin Skywalker Fell?

( _But he was the best of us! The greatest Jedi she’d ever known!_ )

Luke, the heretic Jedi, was the baby she was holding?

“You’re saying . . . you’re saying Vader-- _Darth_ Vader and Luke _Skywalker_ came from a future where the Sith _won_?”

Padme nodded. “Yes. They came back to save us all.”

Her knees wobbled for a moment. The room seemed to spin. The Sith Lord Vader and Anakin Skywalker were the _same person_. The infant and the Jedi who’d irritated her to distraction were the _same person_.

And now Luke was dead.

(The baby stirred in her arms.)

And now Vader was alone.

(Anakin was somewhere in this villa.)

“This is . . .” she swallowed hard. “This is _crazy_. You’re talking about _time travel_. It's impossible!”

“It’s the truth. Now you know,” Obi-Wan said.

She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly and then looked up.

“I want to see my Master. Take me to Anakin.” 

* * *

CXXIX.

Mace wasn’t sure what he expected when he arrived on Mandalore, but he hadn’t expected to be kept waiting. First they asked him if he’d made an appointment to see the Duchess. After he informed them he was a Jedi High Councilor he was forced to wait almost two days for a meeting. Finally, when he did get to meet with her it was not the private audience at all. If he’d sensed any Dark presence in the capital he would have been suspicious that she was harboring Vader and was delaying meeting with him to cover for the Sith. But all such suspicions he had on that count vanished when he met with her face to face.

Rather than meeting in her audience chamber, he was brought to a small comm room that seemed to be overflowing with chaos. 

Maneuvering around rushing droids and nearly bumping into several aides, Mace managed to greet the leader of Mandalore with a bow. She didn’t bother to look up from the viewscreen she was scrolling through.

“Duchess Satine, it seems that I have arrived at a bad time,” he began.

“Like so many of your brethren you are a master of understatement,” she responded, picking up a datapad, tapping away for a moment before putting it down and turning to face him. “Forgive me for not greeting you upon your arrival but as you can see, we’re a bit busy here trying to hold together the galaxy now that you have finally finished trying to tear it apart at the seams.” A droid wheeled up to her and handed her a pile of flimsis which she took and began to peruse as if the Jedi Master wasn’t even there.

Mace strove to remain calm. She was hardly the first politician or planetary leader he’d dealt with who looked down on the Order. “Then my mission coincides with your efforts,” he told her. “It is the protection of peace in the galaxy and the stability of the Republic that has brought me here.”

The Duchess scoffed audibly. “The actions of your Order the past three years as commanders of slave armies and willing enablers of Sheev Palpatine’s corruption say otherwise.”

Windu refrained from grinding his teeth. It wouldn’t help. He let his anger go through the Force. “The Order serves the Republic, _not_ its leader and it is the safety of the Republic that brings me to Mandalore. There is a new threat that must be dealt with or the entire galaxy will fall back into chaos.”

“Back into chaos? _Back into chaos_?!” She echoed, voice rising with every word. “Look around you, Master Jedi. The galaxy has been in chaos _for years_! If you’d bothered to look beyond Coruscant, beyond your precious Senate, you would have seen that! The only thing that has held it together so that we have the smallest hope of rebuilding anything out of this contrived war has been those who have refused to fight, those troopers and Jedi who have put down their weapons and worked to rebuild war torn worlds, those who have worked _tirelessly_ and _thanklessly_ to root out corruption. No, don’t try and justify yourself! You are _no Negotiator_ ,” she snapped at him when Mace opened his mouth to speak. “ I know why you are here. You’re looking for Luke and Vader. Vader is not here and Luke . . .” Here, she trailed off

“So he is dead?” he asked, hoping at least to confirm that fact even if his quarry was not on Mandalore.

“Yes, _damn you_. He’s dead and we are all the worse for it.”

Mace nodded in relief. That was one problem dealt with. “Then that leaves only Vader.”

“Of course, who care’s about the dead when there’s another enemy to hunt down and fight?” she said with a watery laugh. “ _There is no death, just the Force_ , isn’t that what you believe?”

(If his old student died it was a natural part of life. He would do as all Jedi must and rejoice in her transformation into the Force.)

He ignored her comment. It did no good to even discuss such matters with someone who had no understanding of the ways of the Force. “If you are in contact with him or have any means to contact him, I need that information. If you truly believe in pacifism then you can hardly condone the murders he has committed.”

“Do not lecture me about what it means to be a pacifist! I’m the one putting together the galactic peace accord not the Order. I’m the one reaching out to my own estrange family to find neutral ground among my own people! ”

“So long as Vader is out there he is a threat to the Republic and to the League, and to _you_ ,” Mace argued. “He must be stopped before he seizes power.”

The Duchess regarded him for a long moment. She shook her head and laughed. “You _really_ believe that, don’t you? You actually believe he plans to seize power. You’re a fool and if you try and go after him, you’ll be a dead fool.”

He lost his patience. He did not need to be lectured, not when the future of the Republic hung by the thinnest of threads. “ _Do you know where he is_?” he demanded. 

A small smile graced her features. She knew that she had rattled him. Mace regretted that she’d spent so much time with Jedi before. She knew too much and yet too little of their ways. 

“No, I do not know where he is,” she replied evenly. “But if I were him, I would be headed to Ryloth. The reports of Senator Taa’s activities are too loathsome to ignore.”

Mace composed himself. That was all he needed. With a lead on Vader’s next target, he would locate him and face the Sith at last. He nodded in thanks to the Duchess and began to take his leave when she called after him.

“I won’t wish you luck, Master Jedi. It won’t help you. I will however only say that if you and your Order really cared about peace and justice in the Republic, you would be hunting down and arresting people like Senator Taa who profited from enslaving their own people rather than focusing on Vader. Something to think about on your journey.”

* * *

CXXX.

It is that time of year again: the Nubian Day of Family. It was Luke’s _favoritest_ holiday in the whole galaxy. 

Yes, there was Life Day. Who didn’t like Life Day? Life Day was Leia’s favorite. She would sing Life Day carols at the top of her lungs all season if she could. But the Nubian Day of Family was just ever so much more special in Luke’s mind. It was the day that all the family came together on Naboo.

Every year without fail as far back as Luke could remember (and he could remember pretty far as he was almost 7 years old!), he’d sat with his sister and helped his mother and aunt prepare cards and tokens for family who could not be there. 

Every year, he and his sister would make something for his older brother whom he'd never met.

Every year he and his sister would make something to send to the Dark Man.

(Luke was old enough now to know that his name wasn’t the _Dark Man_. But that’s what he’d called him for so so long in his head that he wasn’t prepared to change now.)

He vaguely remembered meeting the Dark Man once. It was a fuzzy memory. He could only remember bits and pieces of it: the pattern of the wallpaper in the room, the splash of water, how the Dark Man seemed impossibly tall, taller even than Dad and all in black, like his whole body was nothing but a massive cloak with a helmet on top. He remembered the way he breathed, in a constant rhythm. 

(Sometimes, late at night Luke would hide under his blankets and pretend to breathe just like him. >> _KHOOOOH PUUUHRR, KHOOOOH PUUUHRR <<_)

This year he was going to go all out and make the very best piece of artwork he could to give him as a Family Day gift. He was going to draw something that the Dark Man would love. He was sure that once the Dark Man got it, it would be hung in a place of honor on his cooling box and be his best beloved Day of Family gift that year. 

Carefully, using a great deal of black, grey, yellow, and brown coloring sticks he drew the dusty vista and people engaged in battle (the Dark Man was _always_ going into battle; it was _very_ exciting and also sometimes scary). He colored carefully, trying to stay within the lines, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he leaned over his picture to get the details just right.

With a pleased grin he sat back and surveyed his creation. Now for the finishing touches! 

He pulled out his vivid green color stick. He pulled out his blood red color stick. He pulled out his royal purple color stick. The red was worn down almost as much as his black and grey, but he had just enough to finish the present. 

He looked down at his paper and with a firm nod drew a bright green lightsaber.   
  
There! It was _perfect_! 

Now to get Artoo to deliver it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue between Yoda and Mace in CXXVII look familiar? That's because it is taken from the script dialogue of Star Was Episode III the Revenge of the Sith and the infamous "Anakin talks to Yoda about his dreams" scene. That's aaaalll canon people. Shocking, I know!


	6. In Which Ahsoka and Mace Get Scolded and Hack Squad Reluctantly Navigates Holomedia

(CHAPTER 16)

CXXXII.

Ahsoka hesitated at the threshold of the nursery as she had every morning since she’d arrived. She wasn’t sure why. Every day she saw the same thing: her Master was lying propped up against the crib, saber resting in his hand. It didn’t matter how many days passed, she could always find him there. Silent. On guard. Still looking like he was recovering from some long wasting illness.   
  
He didn’t even stir when she entered the room. 

(She’d asked Padme why he kept sleeping in the nursery. If he was so worried, why didn’t he bring the children into their bedroom so he could sleep in a real bed at the very least? 

“Because he spent _months_ designing the perfect room for the children. He picked out the room with the garden view; he chose the carpet, the décor, the furniture, everything. I had veto power but he did the shopping.”

“When did he find time to go _shopping_?” Ahsoka asked incredulously. “We’ve been at war! I was with him the whole time!”

“Solo recon missions with Cody,” Obi-Wan complained into his tea mug. “I should’ve known then. When has Cody ever willingly gone along with any of Anakin’s plans?”)

She tiptoed forward until she was looking down at the occupants of the crib, two little figures side by side. Some mornings they were already awake but today they were still sleeping soundly.

(Anakin would wake up if anything was wrong. It was like he’d tuned his powerful Force sense to monitoring the twins every minute of every day. Ahsoka and Padme and Obi-Wan got the twins when they were happy, well fed, sleepy, and clean. The second something was amiss, Anakin would appear to snatch the babies and take care of their every whim. It was frankly a little terrifying.   
  
When Ahsoka tried to broach the subject of Anakin’s figurative and literal _attachment_ and what it meant for the future with Obi-Wan (How the _hell_ were they going to go on missions together? Did he plan to bring them with him wherever he went? How would that even _work_?), he kept dodging the question, saying he needed to meditate. 

No one needed to meditate that much!)

It was mind boggling to see them, to know her _Master_ had _children_. To know all of his long held secrets.

“Y’know,” she whispered to the infants. “It just figures that the most _frustrating_ Jedi I’ve ever met and the _weirdest_ Sith ever are both . . . related to Skyguy. I mean, it’s kind of obvious the more I think about it. Chatterbox figured it out, didn’t he? Chatterbox knew before I did. _That_ is saying something. He’s going to totally rub it in that he was right and everyone else was wrong. He’s like that. Smug know-it-all. I wonder if there’s still time to make a new bet. The pot’s gotta be huge. Do you think Ventress would take my comms or do you think she’s too busy with the Accords?”  
  
“That’s cheating,” a rough, low voice scolded softly.

She nearly jumped out of her skin.“ _Sith Hell_ , don’t do that! What is _wrong_ with you?” she hissed at her Master. Then she realized what had just happened after days of waiting for Anakin to _say_ something and found she could only stare at him, wide eyed.

(Oh, Force please, please, _please_ let this be real!)

He slowly got to his feet, clipped his lightsaber to his belt, and then reached out to the twins. He fussed with their blankets as they slept on. 

“Master?” she whispered, hoping she hadn’t just imagined that he’d spoken.

“You shouldn’t have bet in the first place. Gambling’s a waste of good credits.”

Tears pricked her eyes for some inexplicable reason at the sound of his voice. “W-well, you should tell the 501st that,” she argued in a trembling voice. “Now that they’re getting paid something they bet on everything.”

“What did you bet on then?” he asked, not looking away from his sleeping children.

“I bet that Vader and Luke were recently reconciled exiled royalty from the Unknown Regions.”

Anakin snorted at that.

“ _Hey_! Echo and Fives had this whole presentation with some pretty compelling evidence. It made the most sense,” she said defensively.

“Royalty,” he scoffed at first. “Well . . . maybe Luke. Leia, certainly.”

She nodded in agreement. “Like her mom.”

He was silent for a long moment, then: “Tell me about him.”

Ahsoka looked away from the crib, from the twins. The dissonance was vivid in her mind, in the Force. 

(A son dead. A son alive.)

“He has– _had_ terrible taste in music,” she began. “Sparkle bop and Hutteese blues. He sang it. The men even convinced him to do karaoke. He was pretty good even if the music wasn’t. He spoke a bunch of languages, only some I recognized, but he swore only in Hutteese and _Force_ , could he swear! He . . . he wore a lot of black but then so did Vader so I’m not sure if that meant anything. He synthesized his own lightsaber crystal. It was green. He always practiced with it on full power. He and Ventress would just _attack_ each other, like right in the middle of dinner, standing on the tables, fighting in between the men, and everyone just ignored them the whole time like it was normal or something. It was crazy. He and Vader used to argue politics, like _really_ argue. And just when I thought they’d come to blows or something, they’d go off flying together or tear apart a fighter or tinker with the engines or a droid. Maybe it was a good thing they always wore black. It hid the grease.” 

She risked a glance at her Master and found him standing with his eyes closed, his fists clenched, listening. 

Mourning.

“And his sister? His mother?” he asked roughly.

Ahsoka could only shake her head. There was no word of Leia nor of Padme.

Her silence spoke volumes. He let out a shuddering breath and then reached out to place a comforting hand on the twins.

One of the babies, Luke if she guessed right, scrunched up his little face and began to whimper. Not a moment later Leia woke, growing more and more agitated as her brother began to cry.

“Are they all right?” Ahsoka asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Luke’s just a little scared.”

“Of what?”

“I think … I think Vader sometimes forgets. He reaches out and …” Anakin shrugged.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you mean, he actually … is he _here_?” 

“He’s light years away. He won’t come here.”

“ _Light years_? But–”

“If size doesn’t matter to the Force, and time obviously doesn’t matter to the Force, then distance probably doesn’t matter either.” The babies quieted under his hands, the moment passing. 

For Vader to be that strong . . . Ahsoka remembered all too well how it felt to be near him; the only Sith she’d known who made no attempt to conceal the Darkness in him. What _else_ could he do, would he do, without his son there to stop him?

“How do you know he won’t come here? If he’s reaching out as you say-”

“He doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t mean to frighten Luke. He pulls away as soon as he realizes it’s . . . not who he’s really looking for,” Anakin explained softly. “He’s not going to come to Naboo or anywhere Padme or the children are, now or ever. Not willingly. Not unless he has to. He’s not going to come because . . . because _I_ wouldn’t come.”

“I don’t understand.” It made no sense to her. Seeing how devoted Anakin was and knowing now that Vader traveled through time to fight the Sith Master, she would’ve thought that Vader would come for the twins.

(She felt like she didn’t understand Vader and if that was the case, maybe she’d never really understood Anakin at all.) 

“When you are afraid that you will destroy those whom you desperately want to protect, when you _hate_ yourself. . . you avoid the ones you love.”

Ahsoka knew Anakin’s emotions ran strong but she’d always been taught that those who Fell to the Dark were _different_ , altered permanently from those who stood in the Light. Anakin couldn’t _possibly_ know all of this unless he intimately knew what Vader was thinking and feeling. Because if he did, it meant that the difference between Vader and Anakin was no real difference _at all._

That was a terrifying thought.

“And you? Do you feel…?” She didn’t really want the answer to that. She may have come to accept that Darth Vader was once Anakin Skywalker, but a part of her _really_ didn’t want to know how close Anakin Skywalker was to becoming (being) Vader. 

Anakin looked at her at last and smiled painfully, his expression raw and open as she’d never seen it before. “Always. The fear’s always been there,” he admitted. “The fury, the hate … that grew later. The war, betrayals, my _mother_ ," his voice broke, but then he rallied and continued. "But one of us needs to be here for Padme, for Leia and Luke, for Obi-Wan, the droids, and for you. So I’m staying here and he’ll . . . stay away. If– if that makes you uncomfortable, if you want another Master to teach you, I want you to know that I understand.”

“What? _No_!”  
  
“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly. “You deserve someone better than a failed Knight.”  
  
“What are you _talking_ about? You haven’t failed!”

He huffed a laugh. “Close enough.”  
  
“Close only counts with Hardcase and hand grenades,” Ahsoka reminded him sternly. “You’re still here and I’m not going anywhere. Padme said– she said I was _family_ so–so-- you’re stuck with me. You don’t just get rid of-of your family because they’re weird. I expect to be knighted someday and you’re the one to do it so don’t get any stupid ideas about pushing me away. _I won’t leave you_. You got that, Skyguy?”

“Got it. But if you change your mind–”

“Just shut up, Master.”

* * *

CXXXIII.

As Mace's ship approached Ryloth he couldn't help but think of the last time he was here. The landing at Point Rain had been brutal, the casualties some of the highest of the entire war. Higher even than Geonosis.

At least until Mygeeto.

At least until Coruscant.

It seemed so long ago now and it still wasn’t over.

The conflict that had started in the Outer Rim had spread and made it to Coruscant. The war had brought chaos, destruction, darkness and suffering to the entire galaxy. Ryloth was on the brink of famine and there was precious little aid the Order or the Republic could offer and it wasn’t alone. Dozens of systems teetered on the brink or had been completely destroyed by the Separatist's war.

(The Chancellor’s war.)

(The Sith’s war.)  
  
He was here to stop it. They were so close now to ending the conflict. After more than a decade of wondering and searching, of having their vision of the future clouded, the Sith were finally completely revealed. At last there was an enemy he could see and fight!

Since Qui Gon’s death his ability to see shatterpoints and Master Yoda’s foresight had failed them more often than not. They had not seen Dooku’s betrayal nor the massacre of Jedi on Geonosis. There had been no warning, no sign of danger from the clones before they had been triggered. There had not been even a hint of darkness from Palpatine. He had not seen _any_ of it. 

He had spent years being blind. It was maddening.

But now at last, all was clear; he could see everything. All the shatter points. All the thin lines between order and chaos, between light and dark. And in every infinitesimal crack, in every hairline fracture that stretched out before him stood the shadow. The darkness.

Vader. 

Mace now knew the face of his enemy and he knew his path.

End the Sith.

Restore the Republic.

No matter the cost.

"General Windu," Cham Syndulla greeted him as he disembarked from his ship at what was left of the capital city of Lessu. "I'm glad you've come."  
  
Mace bowed before the freedom fighter, inwardly relieved that he had an ally in his search for Vader. Cham looked weary and thin as did several other Twi'lek's at his side, including a young child. "Thank you. What news do you have?"

"Information is conflicted. Some believe he is not even headed for Ryloth. Other sources say he's already arrived via an old smugglers ship with no transponder and has concealed himself in the southern mountains."  
  
This was promising news. "If he is in the mountains, I will find him and confront him. The longer he's free the greater the danger to the Republic. Can you provide me guides to where he may be hiding?"  
  
"The Republic doesn't interest me. Ryloth does," Cham countered sharply. "With all the anger, the betrayal, the loss, my people are out for blood. We value your help in finding him but he belongs to the people of Ryloth. _We_ will capture him. _We_ will try him for his crimes. _We_ will strip him of his wealth bought with the flesh and blood of _our people_. _We_ will execute him in public as a symbol that our planet and our people will no longer suffer such treachery ever again."  
  
Mace swallowed a sigh of disappointment and frustration. "You're not talking about Vader. You're talking about Senator Taa."  
  
Cham blinked in surprise. "Vader? The one who killed Palpatine? What do my people care about this-this Vader? Taa is the villain here, allowing our people to be sold into slavery while he lined his pockets. He is a slaver of his own people; in bed with the Zygerrians and the Hutts. Your precious Republic _knew_ and helped him do it!”  
  
He shook his head. He’d been afraid of this. It had been a challenge getting Cham to see the bigger picture when his entire planet was invaded by Separatist forces. Getting him to see the importance of Mace’s mission now would prove harder yet he feared. "No, the Republic does not condone slavery. The corruption of a powerful few-" he began to explain.  
  
" _A few_?" Cham interrupted with a harsh laugh. "Try most! The infodump on the Galactic Holonet has made that clear. From the Chancellor to the courts to many senators and representatives, corruption runs rampant at the Core. The leaders of the Republic are nothing more than parasites who give lip service to freedom and democracy. Didn't they try and kill your Order? Bomb your Temple? You now know that I was right all along!"  
  
"That is why I have come. To _protect_ the Republic. To end once and for all the dark corruption of the Sith," Mace argued. "The ideals that form the basis of the Republic still exist, still have value, and we must fight for them, see the government restored to what it was meant to be.”

“ _You_ deal with restoring your government. My people are trying to restore homes, farms, rebuild infrastructure. We are trying to survive! It is only through the aid of the League and its free market that the death toll isn’t triple what it already is. My focus is on the _living_ not unfeeling _institutions_!”  
  
Mace could no longer bite his tongue. First Kryze and now Syndulla! He would not see these politicians denounce what he had spent a lifetime protecting!

(And he would _never_ forgive or forget Palpatine’s simpering about _freedom_ and _democracy_ as he stripped the Republic bare of both!)

“The Republic is only as strong as those who fight for it, who support it, who believe in it. _I_ stand for the Republic. The Order stands for the Republic, for democracy. We have died defending it and we will continue to fight and die to defend it. Do not doubt our resolve. We believe Vader is hunting Taa. If Taa is here, Vader may be on Ryloth as well. You want to capture and try Taa. I support you in bringing him to justice but if you do not help me stop Vader, he will kill Taa before you find him. We can work together on this," he urged. "We do not need to fight each other."  
  
"Justice must come to Taa at Twi'lek hands, not the hands of this Jedi. With that understood, our goals align, _for now_. I will gather our most knowledgably guides and lead you to the mountain. You can deal with Vader and we will capture Taa. Come," Cham gestured towards a paddock near the outer wall. "We will have to travel by blurrg if we are to avoid alerting him to our presence."  
  
"Very well, but know this: Vader is _no Jedi_. He is a Sith just like Palpatine. I will need support of others from my Order in this fight. Where are General Bondara and Commander Assant? I expected them to be here when I arrived."  
  
Cham scowled and shook his head. "Your Republic forces turned on General Bondara and Commander Assant and killed them both before they could be stopped. After whatever was used to control them wore off, those clones that still lived were rounded up by my forces. They did not protest. They all surrendered. We've kept them secluded in their barracks without weapons to prevent them from harming themselves or others. They are treated well but we won't have the Republic's slave army turning on us if they are triggered again."  
  
"They are _not_ slaves!" Mace said hotly. "The Republic--"  
  
"Are they paid? Do they have a choice in serving and fighting and dying? You own them from birth, if you can call it that. The Republic bred them like rycrits and bought and paid for them. Most of them don't even have names! The corruption you seek to fight runs deeper than you imagine, General Windu. Open your eyes! If you wish to save your Republic, you should look inward for threats as much as you look out."   
  
The Jedi Master took a breath. The painful truth in what Cham said rang through the Force. While he had great respect for the men under his command, did they really have a choice? Had they ever been _asked_ if they wanted to fight and die for the Republic?

He had chosen his path; had they?

(“We are advancing and forcing the Guard back and away from the Temple. We cannot evacuate so long as we are surrounded. Weapons must go hot. Order the men to shoot to kill and follow behind me as I lead them away from the Temple,” Mace demanded over the sound of orbital bombardment as the Temple superstructure crumbled around him.

“I heard you the first time, sir. The answer is no. The ships in orbit don’t seem to care if they hit the Temple or the attacking Guard! Please retreat back into the Temple proper. This area is under GAR control.” Skywalker’s Captain yelled back, deliberately refusing his order “Boomer! Waxer and Boil report the west line has broken. Send two squads to help!”

Mace turned and grabbed the shoulder of another trooper marked with a Republic cog on his helmet. “Trooper! Shield down and weapons hot. We are pressing the attack!”

“Go to hell, sir!” the trooper yelled, subduing a triggered clone without killing him.)

How many had he killed that day at the edge of the Temple? 

How many Jedi and how many clones had died the day Palpatine was exposed?

He pushed the memories away. Released his emotions into the Force. What was past was past. What mattered now was the moment.

Anoon Bondara was a great duelmaster and a contemporary. His padawan, Darsha Assant, has been ready to face the Trials before the Council had sent them to aid Ryloth. They were now dead. Vader may be on planet or on his way but Mace needed to see to their funeral rites and take command of what was left of the battalion of triggered clones. If they were anything like the Coruscant Guard, they were in very poor shape in the aftermath of Palpatine's treachery.  
  
Hunting Vader would unfortunately have to wait.  
  
"Take me to the barracks first. Let me see the men."  
  
Cham nodded. "I will send scouts to the mountains to confirm if Taa or Vader have arrived. We will see if the rumors are true or false. My daughter Hera can lead you to the barracks." 

* * *

CXXXIV.

“So that’s the plan,” Uni finished.  
  
“That’s a stupid plan,” Mal grumbled. “Calling it a plan at all is too kind.”

“Well I don’t see _you_ coming up with any bright ideas!”

“We can’t just walk up to some senators and tell them the Order’s smoking spice when it comes to Luke and Vader. We’re lab grown clones. Most civvies in authority think we’re little better than droids. Why would they even listen to us? Besides, what do we even know about any of this? _Nothing_. Each of us is barely a couple of years old and we know nothing about anything except how to fight and how to kill!” 

“We know enough,” Slice countered hotly. “We’ve reprogrammed battle droids. We’ve sliced the Techno Union and the Trade Federation and gave the League the leverage it needed to force the Accords. We’ve funded the _entire_ Reconstruction. We’re the ones who stopped Order 66. We can handle a-a PR campaign.”

“No, we _can’t_ ,” Mal insisted. 

“We don’t know anything about media, about propaganda,” Gin said in frustration. “Before it was all monies and contracts and codes. This is– this is _ideas_ and _emotions_ and _image_ and _marketing_ ," he said each word as if it was distasteful. "We don’t have a clue what we’re doing.”

“Well, we better figure something out otherwise _Vader’s_ going to find his own way to deal with the rumors about Luke,” Uni warned. 

The other brothers contemplated letting Vader _handle_ things for a long moment and then silently decided they had to figure something else out instead. 

“Well, er . . . what about . . . what about the Tatooine campaign?” Wires asked desperately, trying to think of something.

“What about it?”

“Er, um, well . . . look, when the holonet started covering Vader’s assassinations of Palpatine’s cronies the civvies really liked that, right? They were in favor of what Vader was doing. So, er, maybe we give them more news like that. Vader freeing the slaves on Tatooine. Luke and Vader freeing the Togrutas from the Zygerrians. Give the public a bad guy to hate and show Luke and Vader being the good guys. No one will give a damn about the Order’s rumors then,” he finished, warming to the idea.

“You can’t seriously think that’ll work though?” Mal asked. “We can’t just say _here’s proof that Luke was a hero_ and they’ll believe it.”

“Worked for Luke though,” Slice reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah it did,” Uni said with a growing sense of excitement. “Luke said the war was over and everyone thought he was crazy. I don’t even think Vader believed it. Hells, _we_ didn’t believe it at first either, but he kept saying it to everyone: senators, other Jedi, planetary leaders, all of us, and look around. The war _is_ over! It’s over because he said it was _and_ he did everything he damn well could to show everyone else the truth! We just need to do the same thing about Luke and Vader, tell _and_ show the galaxy the truth.”

Wires swiveled around in his chair and opened the GAR server. “Right then. Message to the galaxy. Getting the word out to trillions of beings over and over and over again. Providing proof to back it up. Let’s head over the civvie holomedia sites and see what we have to work with.”

“Force, I _hate_ holomedia sites,” Mal grumbled going over to his workstation.

“Look at it this way: It’s either holomedia or Vader throwing down with the Jedi Order,” Gin reminded him pointedly.

“BeepBoop, Instaholo, and _ugh!_ Spacebook it is then,” he said grimly.


	7. In Which The Liberation of Tatooine IS Televised

CXXXV.

There were many stories about how freedom would come to those enslaved on the desert planet of Tatooine. Some said it would come like condensing dew, growing drop by drop.

Others said it would come on like a storm, sand billowing up in the air like a visible scream.

In one story, the old grandmothers said, liberation would come like rain, water _actually_ falling from the sky.

All the stories got it wrong. 

When salvation finally came to Tatooine, it fell like a hammer’s blow, striking at the chains that bound them and threw such sparks the very world seemed to catch alight and burn.   
  
There was no water, only fire and blood.

* * *

CXXXVI.

* _click_ *

“So we made it to Tatooine,” a voice with a noticeable Mando'a accent begins as the holocam view spins slowly around taking in pale dunes and a cloudless sky. “Most of the settlements are in the northern hemisphere of the planet. I say _settlements_ , but this is pretty much all there is in the north. Sand and looking over here, even more sand. And what’s over in the west? Sand. The south? Almost no one goes to the southern hemisphere because there’s _absolutely nothing_ to see there either. Just more sand. I swear, _He’s_ right. There’s nothing more annoying than sand. It does get _everywher_ e. And other than sand, there’s _nothing_ to see on this entire, Force-forsaken, _scuddy_ , garbage masher of a–”

* _click_ *  
  
“Are the scramblers in place?”

Even through it is dark in the tunnel and even though the other trooper is wearing his helmet, one can somehow still perceive the visible eyeroll that question causes. “For the tenth time Joc, the scramblers are in place. We’re good to go. As soon as _He_ gives us the signal, we go in and we get everyone out.”

The holoimage shakes and wobbles. 

“ _Stand still_ , will you?” Another helmeted figure hisses. “We’ve got the easy part.”

“You say that but where’s the signal, huh? Why hasn’t _He_ –“

Static garbles the holo-transmission for several seconds and there is an ear shattering boom. 

“Move, _move_!” a trooper orders and they are on the run, bursting through the subterranean tunnels and breaking down every door they can find. 

It’s pitch black; only the lights from the clone trooper helmets’ illuminate the cells and the huddled broken figures packed inside.

* _click_ *  
  
From the high angle of the holoimage, the viewer can see a male Crolute is standing on a raised platform before a raucous crowd, a shiny datapad in hand. 

“I hear 32, do I hear 40? 40 peggats for this fine specimen. She’s still got some youth to her, do I hear 48? 48 to the Lady Murra, thank you for you bid. 56! Thank you, sir. Do I hear 64? She’ll earn you that back in a week, look at her!” he crows reaching over to pull off her barely closed shirt exposing her to the eyes of the crowd. “Do I hear 64?”

The girl, barely out of her teens, keeps her head lowered. She makes no move to cover herself. She stands still and silent on the auction block.

“Tell me I can kill him,” a voice mutters darkly.

“Wait, Redeye.”

“I _want_ to kill him. I’ve got the shot. Let me _take the damn shot_ , Captain.”

“ _Wait_.”

“Sold!” the auctioneer roars and two Weequays take hold of the newly purchased slave and drag her from the stage.

The Crolute motions for the next lot and the guards drag forth a Twi'lek child from the holding pens.

The child is barely old enough to toddle on his own two feet. His face is a howling mask of grief and pain.

“Ryma!” the child cries, his hands reaching desperately behind him to the figures packet tightly into cages. “ _Ryma_! _Ryma_!”

“ _Skrag_ this,” Redeye swears and the holocamera captures perfectly the moment where the guards and the auctioneer are taken out with three quick headshot blasts of a sniper rifle. 

“REDEYE!” a voice roars.

“Go ahead and put me on report, Captain. I don’t _karking_ care anymore!” Redeye yells back as the camera angle shifts again and again as he snipes people in the panicking crowd, mercilessly taking out slavers execution style with one headshot after another. “I’m _not_ watching one more second of this _kriffing_ , messed up–“

There is a roar of an engine, the familiar whine of a troop transport. Air support casts a large shadow over the auction square. A dark blurry figure seems to fall from the sky to a land amid the screaming chaos of bodies.

The mic on the comm captures an all to familiar _snap-hiss_.

And then the screaming really starts.

* _click_ *

“–so introduce everyone already, Echo!” the trooper out of the holoframe calls out.

“Right, so this is Xian,” Echo says pointing at the people sitting with him in the courtyard one at a time. They are a motley crew, each with slug throwing rifles in their hands, braced against their shoulders, resting on their bent knees. “And this is Lore, Etamin, Kor-Joo, and Anequis. They’re here helping us with the liberation of the planet. Lots of people are willing to help, which sure makes a change from the Wars. They’re helping us organize and get the word out to the locals. Say hello to the rest of the GAR everyone!”

* _click_ *

The holoimage moves around as if the camera is being held by someone drunk. 

“Put it into focus. _No_! Not like that! Push the _other_ button!”

“I can do it, CT-9779! I’m not a nerf, you know.”

“Could have fooled me,” CT-9779 replies under his breath.

“Shut up.”

“Can you just let me do it? It’s _my_ camera! I saved up my stipend to get it. I don’t want you to break it. What are you even trying to do?”

“I’m trying to– ah- _ha_!” The image stops shaking and then zooms in quickly on the building. Hanging by a chain from the highest tower is a bulbous blurry mass. Then the image comes into focus.

It is the body of a Hutt, dangling in the air. It is wrapped and strangled by chains, putrefying in the desert heat, and covered with insects feasting on the rotting remains.

“Really? Of all the things to use my camera for, you want to take a holo of _that_? You think people want to see that festering pile of–“

“Are you kidding me? This is THE holo. This, _right here_. People are gonna want to have this framed and in their homes, I tell you. Jabba, dead at last! I only _wish_ we’d managed to get a holo of that moment where _He_ used the Force to wrap the chains around him. The look on his face! The way his eyes bugged out of his head!” 

“THE holo or not, I am NOT putting this on my Instaholo feed! Now give me back my--”

* _click_ *

“Put the weapon down! _Put it down_!” 

The richly dressed man presses the blade even deeper into the young boy’s throat. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him if you don’t let me go!”

“Put the weapon down and release the boy or we’ll fire!”

“We can come to an arrangement. You can take this one if you leave me be. I’m a reasonable man! I’m being _reasonable_!”

“ _Kriff_ you, we don’t make deals with scum like you! Let the boy go!”

The boy who’s been hanging limp in the slaver’s grasp seems to suddenly steel himself. He raises his hands and digs his nails into the arm pinning him and turns his head-- heedless of the blade at his throat --and bites down, _hard_.

The man screams.

The blade slices.

Blood arcs.

The troopers fire.

The camera jostles and the troopers’ hands come into view, pressing against the boy’s red gaping throat as he lies fallen on the carpeted floor of the lavish bedroom. “Get a medic! _GET A MEDIC_!”

* _click_ *

Sharp cracking shots fill the air. The helmet holocamera view is partially obscured by a building wall. 

“They’re above the catina! Left Foot! Bats! Do you hear me? They’re above the cantina!”

A local pushes the trooper aside, steps out from behind the cover of the building and brings their slug throwing rifle to bear.  
  
“Get back!” The trooper yells, grabbing them and yanking backward. “Xian, are you _crazy_? We need to coordinate, you can’t just rush in and–“

There is a sudden _pop_ and the front of the cantina explodes into a fire ball.

Xian spits in disgust, pushes past the trooper and advances into the fray.

“ _Skrag_ this! Left Foot, we’re going in!”

* _click_ *

“Look, you _can’t_ take this apart. You can’t salvage this! This is _not trash_!” The trooper yells shooing away the crowd of Jawas from a holonet antenna and dish. “Hey, you! I’m _talking_ to you! I know you understand Basic! Stop touching that! We need it for the signal. Stop messing with the signal!”

The Jawas retreat for a moment but then start circling around the trooper, whispering avariciously, reaching for the shiny new tech.

The mic picks up someone sniggering. 

“And _you_ can just stop laughing, and come _help me_!”

“You’re doing just fine!” says whoever is recording. “Besides _I’m_ not going to be much help. I don’t speak Jawa.”

“Koho, if you don’t get over here _right now_ and – _get away from there_! –I’ll tell Hack Squad it’s your fault that--”  
  
“ _Fine_ , fine! But I still think the only way we’re going to get them to stop stripping the new network for parts is to threaten them with _Him_.”

The Jawas gasp and hurriedly back up a few meters. 

“Yeah! You heard Ridge!” Koho says with malicious glee. “Leave the dish alone or _He’s_ going to come and deal with you! You got that?”

* _click_ *

The holoimage is dominated by the cockpit of the fighter. Gloved hands work the controls. A piece of starry space is visible through the bend of the transparisteel canopy.

“Swinging around for another sweep,” a trooper voice crackles as if heard through a long tunnel. 

“Stay in formation, Kickback. We’re having a hard enough time covering the whole planet with this CAP to have you straggling.”

“Negative, Pike. I’m getting something . . . something from the southern hemisphere.”

“I’ve got nothing on my scopes,” another voice protests. “No one even lives in the southern hemisphere. Just Tuskans and krayts.”

A sliver of the yellow sunbaked planet is visible now through the canopy.

“I’m telling you, there’s _something_ ,” Kickback insists, priming his weapons. “Come around to flank me. I think we’ve got someone about to try and run the blockade.”

“Another _feeling_ , huh?”

Kickback laughs. “Trust in the Force. I haven’t been wrong yet. _There_! Do you see? Switch to visual tracking. The engine trail. Point five.”

“They’re flying like a mynok outta hell,” Pike remarks. “Unidentified ship. You are ordered to stand down and prepare to be boarded.” 

“They’re not answering and they’re not stopping.”

“I can see that Oddball, thank you,” Pike responds with exasperation. “Comm the _Dauntless_ , tell them we have our first catch of the day. Kickback, can you--”  
  
“ _Hyperspace event_!” another voice shouts over the comms.

“Who is it?” 

“GAR support cruiser, sir!”

“Blast it, forget about that! The slavers’ making a break for it!” Kickback yells. “We can’t let them–!”

* _click_ *

“Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth or are you just a meat sack in armor with a blaster? I _don’t_ keep slaves. Everyone works for me because they _choose_ to,” the woman insists as she turns and gestures at the various barely clad species standing behind her. “It’s just a job, bucket head. Get it? _A_! _Job_!” 

“Everyone gets scanned,” the trooper insists. “Denal?”

Denal steps forward and raises the strangely cobbled together device.

The woman stares at the scanner and her eyes widen. “L-look, I’m telling you. There’s been a mistake. This is a house of pleasure. The beings here make a decent living. What’s wrong with a little companionship? You, trooper. Denal, is it? Don’t you want to rest a bit? Spend some quality time with one or two of my employees? On the house, of course!”

The device flashes once and Denal turns the screen so the woman can see. “ _Employees_ , huh? Then why are they all implanted with bombs?”

* _click_ *

“Come here, Captain. Help me hold him.” Her stern commanding voice contrasts her short stature, her features mostly concealed by an archaic cloth medical mask.

“Ma’am, I don’t think–”

The woman turns to the old man lying on the table. She picks up a device and sweeps it slowly over his torso. “Captain, _now_.”

The troopers hands press down carefully on the man’s shoulders. “Ma’am, we’ve got medics. We can call for medics or take him up to the–”

“ _No_ ,” the man on the table begs. “Take it out. Take it out _now_. Please. _Please_!”

“ _There_ it is,” the woman says grimly, putting down the scanner. “Bite down now,” she urges the man on the table, offering him a bantha hide rope to place between his teeth and then picks up a small sharp blade. 

“Ma’am, we can wait. We’ve got scramblers in place. We’ve got time–”

“No, Captain. We do this now. This all ends now,” she says firmly. “ _Hold fast_.”

He looks down at the face of the man on the table. He doesn't look away as the man's jaw clenches, as he starts to breathe heavily, and then finally starts to scream and sob through the makeshift gag.

* _click_ *

In the dim light it is hard to make out much, but the clone armor still stands out, reflecting back the lantern’s light as the trooper digs frantically with his hands and what appears to be the Force, at the side of a mountain.

“Hardcase? Hardcase, there’s nothing more to be done.”

“They were just behind me, sir,” Hardcase explains as he strains to move more debris, moving huge boulders with a wave of his hand. “The little one, he was hanging from my shoulders. He was holding onto me. They’re probably just past these rocks. They’re probably waiting for us to get them out. They’re probably– probably— We just need to dig a little bit more. Just a _little_ more, Captain. We just need to prop this up with _something_ \--”

With every boulder he shifts, ever meter he frantically digs, his progress is eaten away by the force of gravity, dragging down more of the mountain.

Hardcase lets out a noise of frustration. “I need some help,” he finally says. “I just--I just need some help digging.”

He turns and faces the officer who is trying to get him to stop. “Captain, is Fives up yet? What about Chatterbox? And Cooker? If they’ve recovered we can clear the mine entrance together. _Together_. We can _rescue them_ together. We can _use the Force_ and–“

“Fives, Cooker, and Chatterbox are still unconscious,” Captain Rex interrupts quietly. “So’s Flare and Bats. They held up the mountain as long as they could. You found as many as you could. You’ve done _everything_ you could. You need to rest now, soldier.”

Hardcase blinks.

Then he shakes himself and turns back to his task.

“Just a _bit more_ , Captain. They were just behind me. The little ones, they’re waiting. They were _right behind_ me. He was holding onto my armor. He was-- he was right behind me. I’ve just gotta move a few more rocks. Just gotta shift this here and move a few more rocks. Just a few more.”  
  
* _click_ *


End file.
